


When You're Strange

by monetstcroix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff, Bisexual Nymphadora Tonks, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Desi Black Family, Desi Harry Potter, Desi Sirius Black, Divorced Remus and Tonks, Gay Sirius Black, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Minor Nymphadora Tonks/Chiara Lobosca, Multi, Nonbinary Nymphadora Tonks, Nymphadora Tonks Lives, Parenthood, Paris - Freeform, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Raising Teddy Lupin, Remus Lupin Lives, Sexual Content, Sirius Black Lives, Slow Burn, Werewolf Teddy Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28373814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monetstcroix/pseuds/monetstcroix
Summary: In the three years since the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus has been contending with the return of one of his best friends from the dead, the end of his marriage, and raising his son Teddy. Life is finally settling into a predictable, peaceful pattern, but the sudden manifestation of his son's lycanthropy threatens to upend everything. With a little help from friends and family, they manage.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks (past), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	When You're Strange

**Author's Note:**

> Keeping with the trend of taking all my titles from songs, title is from the lyrics of "People Are Strange" by The Doors. 
> 
> I was never completely happy with how the whole storyline with Teddy was resolved (on top of y'know, everything else) and this fic is my attempt at reworking canon into something that I like. This universe is canon compliant up until the Battle of Hogwarts and most of the divergences are explained, but I did change Teddy’s canon full name to something I liked a little better. 
> 
> Chiara Lobosca is a vaguely canon-adjacent character from Hogwarts Mystery who I thought fit into the story I wanted to tell quite nicely, but no knowledge of the game is needed and this fic isn't compliant with her sidequests.

Two weeks after Teddy turns three, it happens.

Sirius is the one to go to him, of course. When Remus had moved in, they’d easily come to an agreement that Sirius would attend Teddy on the few full moon nights that the toddler wasn’t at Andromeda and Tonks’s place, when Remus is unable to do nothing more than sleepily snuffle and curl up into a pile of fur. Remus does not want his son to ever come face to face with the wolf even in that defanged form. 

It’s always on these nights that he sleeps the best, a far cry from the tearing fury and howling rampages that the wolf had gone on years ago. He’s not quite sure whether it’s solely due to the sedative effect of the wolfsbane or the simpler, animal mind of the wolf. It can’t constantly ruminate about the past, regretting all the things that he should have done differently, after all. 

Sometimes, after making sure that Teddy is asleep, the dog comes in and curls up next to the wolf and they snooze through the night together. That’s been happening more often now that Teddy’s old enough to sleep through the night. 

That’s why, when Remus wakes up the morning after the full moon, covered in nothing but a woolly blanket, he expects to find Padfoot next to him, huffing out his usual doggy snores. But the dark wooden planks of the floor next to him are bare, the air too still. 

Teddy must just have needed some water, Remus thinks as he grabs the dressing gown hanging on a hook next to his bedroom door and pulls it on. He pushes open the door to reveal the frowning face of Sirius Black. 

“Teddy, er,” Sirius starts, and in that instant, Remus knows that something is wrong. He presses past Sirius and strides down the hall to his son’s door. 

Teddy’s crib is destroyed, beyond help of even the most powerful _reparo_ , the white frame mangled into splinters and the sheets torn to periwinkle shreds. He had been planning on buying Teddy a toddler bed the past few months but hadn’t expected the need to come on so quickly, Remus thinks half-hysterically. 

The boy is sleeping in a small nest of blankets and pillows, likely transfigured from something—perhaps couch cushions and spare robes—by Sirius. 

“He’s alright,” he can hear Sirius saying behind him. Remus thinks he can taste bile in his mouth. He steps into the room, each movement a monumental slogging effort, and crouches down next to Teddy’s sleeping form. 

As gently as he can, he brushes a lock out of brown hair out of his son’s face. There are jagged scratches on his cheek bearing a silvery sheen, just like the scars that adorn Remus’s whole body, but thinner, tinier than they ever were for him. Than they ever could have been. If Teddy opens his eyes, they’ll be the exact same shade of gold as Remus’s, but so much smaller.

Remus tastes salt and his eyes are wet. The vision of his son is blurring in front of him. He can’t remember the last time he saw Teddy’s hair that shade of mousy brown.

“Remus,” Sirius is saying next to him, a firm hand on his shoulder. “Padfoot took care of him. I spent the night with him, I came as soon as I heard the screaming—” 

“You shouldn’t have had to… he shouldn’t have…” Remus stands up, pushing Sirius’s hand away and flees the room.

On some level, he knows that Sirius will take care of Teddy. That he’ll floo Dora about it, that he’ll owl a healer, that he’ll do whatever needs doing in this moment. That they can get through this morning and onwards to the rest of their lives, at least. 

But right now, as he shoves the front door open and disapparates with a loud crack that sounds almost like the wolf bursting through his bones to make way for itself, like the wolf tearing through everything good he has, all Remus can think is that _he_ can’t do it. He can’t stand in front of his son, knowing that he’s the cause of his suffering, of not just the pain he endured last night, but the pain that he’ll come to endure every month for the rest of his life. He can’t be here. Remus feels violently ill, as if the world is closing in around him, and in the squeeze of apparition, hopes it crushes him.

The darkness and coolness of the shack is comforting. He slumps down on the ruined bed and buries his face in his hands. 

Remus nearly wants to laugh out loud at how much he has deluded himself. Amidst the rubble of the war, he had thought they could lay foundations for a better world for Teddy, a better life for his son than Remus’s own. 

Even after his and Dora’s divorce, the world around Teddy had barely wavered with the combined affections of Remus, Tonks, Andromeda, Sirius, and Harry, the latter three doing all they could to surround him with the love and warmth that had been so often denied them growing up. He’d thought that Teddy could be safe now. 

There’s a crack next to Remus, which would have been jarring if not for the fact that he had been expecting it. 

He does not know how long it has been, but the sun has marched higher in the sky, casting slants of light through the broken windows and gilding the forms of the two men, the last two Marauders, sitting on the half-collapsed bed.

“Remus,” Sirius says. 

Remus sighs. “I know what you’re going to say. I just… I thought he was safe from it… I thought we were _done_ ,” He does not look up at Sirius, instead staring down at the splintered floor of the Shack. The wood is cold against his bare feet, a fragment of the floorboard poking slightly into his skin. 

“That’s the rub of it, though,” Sirius says, an edge to his voice. “No such thing as being safe forever.” 

Remus straightens up slightly, finally glancing at Sirius. 

He can see the dog in Sirius’s expression, the way that his teeth are slightly bared. Remus is reminded of the dog leaping from the veil almost exactly three years ago now, a black beast shoving Remus down as a killing curse harmlessly passed over their heads. As Remus had stared up at the huge dog on his chest heavy as a boulder, thinking that he must have finally gone mad amidst this bloody battlefield or else he was dead, it had twisted back into the man, leaving no doubt. Quick as the wind, Sirius had whirled around to cast a glimmering shield that covered Tonks’s back, protecting her from Dolohov’s bellowed curse.

Before either Remus or Tonks could say a word, both of them shocked speechless, Sirius had desperately asked them where Harry was and ran off in the direction of their pointed hands to find his godson. Sirius did not let even the impenetrable barrier of the veil, even death stop him from being there for his loved ones. And in comparison to that, what is he?

Remus almost wishes that Sirius would just attack him, tear him to pieces like he deserves, rather than granting him the mercy that a traitorous part of him wishes for even as he tries to silence that small voice, that voice saying _perhaps it just couldn’t be helped, perhaps worrying about it is a waste of time, perhaps—_

“I suppose,” Remus says dully. “I should have never have hoped that someone like me could be a father but of course, I tried to deceive myself…”

“No,” Sirius bites out, ready with the rebuke and Remus, despite himself, welcomes it. “Sure, he’s got to deal with this now, but he’s got two homes where people care about him. He’s got a father who can show him exactly how to deal with it, if only he’d pull his head out of his arse!” 

Remus thinks of the way that his parents had looked at him sometimes, as if he was beyond comprehension even as they assured him that they loved him, that he was still their son no matter what. Grimmauld Place, the echoes of Sirius’s cold, cruel childhood, love issued with a writ of obedience. And, worst of all, Harry growing up alone in the dark, locked in a cupboard for years, James and Lily lost forever, Sirius and Remus beyond reach. 

He looks up at Sirius then, at his stormy grey eyes intent on Remus’s face, waiting for him. “I… suppose you’re right.”

Sirius actually barks out a laugh then, almost violent in its abruptness. “Yeah, you berk,” Sirius says, leaning forward and pulling Remus into a tight hug. Remus sinks into his firm grip, burying his face in Sirius’s neck and breathing in the pine scent of his hair, thankful for the warm comfort even as a part of him tells him that he doesn’t deserve it. But his fellow Marauders have always been very good at drowning out that part.

“Don’t get too used to hearing that,” he murmurs, making Sirius laugh again, but a low, happy chuckle that feels like it’s just for the two of them.

Sirius pulls him to his feet and steps back to look Remus in the face, determination in his steely eyes. No reneging on this, now. Remus takes a deep breath and summons the pull of apparition.

* * *

Tonks is attempting to persuade Teddy into finishing his breakfast, a shadow of her usual enthusiasm on her face. Even as she makes her typical quips about growing up to be big and strong, her face is drawn. Teddy looks worn, his hair messy and dark bags under his eyes, but he’s not outright refusing Tonks’s attempts to persuade him into having a bit of porridge. He’s only staring down at the bowl with a little frown on his face, looking like he wants to go right back to bed. 

“That didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” Tonks says, glancing at them. There’s an empty Holyhead Harpies mug in front of her, brown rings circling the ceramic interior, and a bowl with dregs of porridge in front of her. She must have come as soon as Sirius called her. Of course.

He swallows. She was always the better parent and partner, willing to stick through the thick and thin, always casting an optimistic eye towards the future. She turns back to their son. “Come on, Teddy. If you eat some of your breakfast now, you can have a bit of chocolate later.” 

“An’ Pads plays catch wif’ me,” Teddy mumbles, poking at his porridge.

“And if I play catch with you later,” Sirius grins as Teddy finally spoons some porridge into his mouth. Remus envies both Sirius and Tonks for the ease of the words that come to them, the happiness spreading on their faces, as if it’s just another day, as if his son isn’t a werewolf.

“Er,” Remus starts, then clears his throat. Teddy looks up at him. “Er. How are you? How are you feeling, I mean.” 

“Sleepy,” Teddy wrinkles his nose and Remus sees that someone, Sirius or Dora, has bandaged his cheek. His hair is still brown and his dull eyes mirror the gold of Remus’s. “Hurts.”

“We were worried about giving him too much healing potion, since he’s so young,” Tonks says quietly, looking down at her lap. “When the healer comes, we’ll have a better idea of what we can do for him…”

“The pain usually lasts about a day or so… The fatigue lasts longer, but that’s easier to get used to,” Remus says softly. Tonks looks up at him, her brown eyes wide. She has mousy brown hair and light stubble today, almost looking like a younger version of Ted who’s gotten into the hair dye. “It should be more soreness than anything, since he, er, since Padfoot was there to stop him from…”

Dora seems to get the idea and nods. “Does the wolfsbane stop that too?”

“Yes, but… I don’t think it’s ever been tested on someone so young,” Remus says softly.

“We’ll talk to the healer and get this all figured out,” she says decisively. Remus wants to say that it’s not that easy, that there isn’t much research on treating lycanthropes in general, much less ones so young, and that most healers don’t bother to make the effort anyway, but he bites down on his tongue. It will only lead to an argument and that’s the last thing they need right now. 

“It’s that werewolf healer Remus told me about,” Sirius says. “Chiara Lobosca. If anyone would know this stuff, it’s her.”

“Oh, that’s right! She was in my year… she was a Hufflepuff too,” Tonks says, brightening slightly. “She’s sweet. You’ll like her, Teddy.” 

Soon enough, Teddy pushes away his half-empty porridge bowl and both Tonks and Sirius decree it a job well done, Tonks eating the rest of the porridge. “Always need more fuel round exam time,” she says, a trace of her usual cheer in her voice. They’re lucky that this happened around Auror exam time and that Andromeda was busy with several cases this week, Remus thinks. Otherwise Teddy would have been with Tonks and Andromeda as he usually is during the school year. He does not want to think about the outcome of that alternative. 

Teddy yawns widely, oddly drowsy for such an energetic boy, and again, Remus desperately thinks _this wasn’t supposed to happen_ , but then Tonks is picking their son up, hugging him tightly without a trace of fear or shame.

“Sleepy, Teddy? I could do with a kip myself…” she says, kissing him on the forehead as they head off to the guest room.

“Chiara’s coming in the afternoon,” Sirius says, clearing up the table with a wave of his wand. “I owled the shelter and told them I’d need to take today off.”

“Alright. Thanks,” Remus sighs, feeling very tired. The future seems endless muck, as if every step forward will take enormous effort. 

“You must have loads of grading to do,” Sirius says. “Bring it out here and I’ll help you.” 

“Sure,” Remus exhales. It lightens his mood a little, knowing that grading will serve as an immediate distraction from all this, something to do with his hands and brain. Sirius understands very well the dangers of sitting around with nothing to do but think. “I had my fourth-years each pick a hex and write an essay on it. I seem to recall you and James trying out quite a few of them…” 

“You say that like you aren’t just as much of an expert as I am,” Sirius smiles, following him to the study. 

* * *

The healer, Chiara, comes in the afternoon. Remus knows that she is Tonks’s age, give or take a few months, but she already looks a few years older than Tonks usually does. Chiara has slight lines under her eyes and at the corners of her friendly smile, and silver hair down to her shoulders that’s bright in the afternoon sun filtering through the windows. 

They’d met on an outreach mission that Remus had gone on late in the second war, before Tonks had gotten pregnant.

Chiara had trained at St. Mungo’s as a healer before the war had broken out, so she had been traveling between the werewolf packs located in the deep wilderness in an attempt to offer the medical care that they so rarely got. Despite her apparent good intentions, the other werewolves had been distrustful of her because she clearly hadn’t dealt with anti-lycanthropic prejudice to the extent they had, with her formal education in magic and endless fount of optimism.

It hadn’t been difficult for her and Remus to commiserate over their shared rejections from both wizarding and werewolf society. While it had been easier for her in some ways because the wolfsbane potion had always been available to her, first at Hogwarts and then at St. Mungo’s as a healer, she had still endured much discrimination at the hospital. Many of her fellow healers had avoided working with her and several patients had outright refused to be in her care. 

She had mentioned that her hair had gone completely grey in her teens and Remus had abruptly felt awful for whinging about his hair starting to fade a bit in his twenties. He briefly wonders how long it will take for Teddy to go grey himself and then, with considerable effort, shoves all thoughts of the past and future out of his head, trying to focus on Chiara greeting Teddy in front of him.

“Hiya Teddy!” she beams, smiling at the boy. Teddy flinches back into Tonks’s arms, a look of worry on his face.

Remus can smell the wolf on Chiara, still fresh from last night and earthy, feral, and foreign in its scent, as tangible as her silver hair or blue eyes. That must be what’s triggering Teddy’s anxiety because his son is usually inquisitive and friendly around strangers. Remus tries to suppress the rising wave of guilt and stay focused on his son, but he knows that Sirius has noticed the tense set of his mouth from the way that Sirius squeezes his shoulder, the touch grounding.

“Say hi, Teddy,” Tonks says as she puts a comforting arm around him. Teddy finally raises his hand and gives Chiara a small, hesitant wave.

“How were you feeling last night, Teddy? Before you went to bed?” Chiara continues on easily. That’s right. This is business as usual for her as a healer. Remus wonders what that’s like, dealing with the worst days of other people’s lives every single day. He feels like he has had several lifetimes’ worth already. 

“Tired and um… kinda funny.”

“What do you mean by funny?”

“Itchy, kinda,” Teddy says, rubbing at his arm and pulling up the sleeve. Remus sees the edges of white plasters and his heart stops. He reaches a hand forward even though he’s too far from Teddy to touch him without pushing Chiara out of the way. He nearly does it before he hears Sirius’s voice in his ear. 

“They’re scratches, none very deep. Half the reason we put so many was so he wouldn’t itch at the scabs and make them worse.” 

Remus nods, eyes still fixed on his son as Chiara takes Teddy’s arm and gently peels back the bandages, confirming what Sirius has just said. There are several shiny scratches on his small arm, but none resemble the deep gashes that Remus had torn into himself long ago.

“That happens to me too,” Chiara says, her blue eyes earnest. “I know that it happens to your father too. Then what happened next?” 

“Um… it hurt… and I cried,” Teddy mumbles, pulling his arm away from her and looking back at Tonks, who wraps her arms around him even more tightly.

“That was when I came in as the dog,” Sirius fills in. “I was able to calm him down enough that he didn’t hurt himself more…”

“That’s right, you’re an Animagus?” Chiara says with interest. Remus had told her the entire story when they’d met, but he can’t blame her for being interested in Sirius’s take on it. Although she’d been lucky enough to have wolfsbane during her Hogwarts years, there’s something to be said about the approach that the Marauders took, despite (or because of) its unintended consequences. 

“Yeah. We became Animagi at Hogwarts so we could be with Remus during the full moons,” Sirius says, looking at Remus with a small smile.

“That’s sweet,” Chiara smiles.

“If not a bit illegal,” Remus says as he absently pats Sirius’s thigh, and she chuckles. “I can say that it was very helpful for me, especially before wolfsbane. I hardly ever bit or scratched myself when they were around.” 

“That makes sense,” Chiara says. “Given that Teddy will have you and Sirius around during the transformations, I would rather err on the side of caution in not allowing Teddy to consume wolfsbane before he’s about seven or eight years old. He’s one of the younger cases that we’ve seen and there isn’t enough research about the use of wolfsbane in children for me to recommend it in good conscience.” 

“Oh,” Remus says, his slight cheer immediately replaced by worry squeezing tight around his chest. 

“Most children who are bitten have to spend the night in holding cells at St. Mungo’s because there’s nowhere else to go. Teddy is lucky that he has you two,” Chiara says, her voice soft but firm.

“Yes,” Dora murmurs and Sirius nods. They both look tense, but not devastated, not like the shattering pain Remus is feeling, the overwhelming guilt threatening to drown him. Wolfsbane won’t be of any help to Teddy, not for four more years. Even Greyback hadn’t tried to turn toddlers.

He glances at Chiara frantically. She looks calm, almost clinical in her manner. Even she doesn’t seem to understand. He feels lost, so lost.

“He has us two,” Sirius repeats, squeezing Remus’s shoulder again and bringing him back to himself. “Unless you want to give being an Animagus a shot, Tonks. Wonder what you’d be…” 

“Oh, Metamorphmagi can’t,” Dora’s mouth twists into a frown, the corners of her mouth tight, the way Remus remembers her trying to suppress tears. “I can make my face look a bit like an animal for a laugh, but nothing more. I heard about a Metamorphmagus bloke who tried becoming a proper Animagus and got his neck permanently stuck like a giraffe. Something about the magic twisting back in on itself.” Then she kisses the top of Teddy’s head, tucking him close to her side. “But I’ll be here the rest of the time, Teddy.” 

“Er, that reminds me… Teddy manifested Metamorphmagus abilities before this, but I haven’t seen him change since…” Remus ventures, hoping that the answer will be just that he’s tired or that they just need to wait a bit.

“There isn’t much research in this area, but the magic involved in a werewolf transformation isn’t so far off from that of an Animagus. When his latent lycanthropy manifested, it likely counteracted those abilities completely. Um, so…” Chiara starts, her tone very gentle and making Remus feel as if he is the child here.

“That’s a no, then,” Remus says, feeling a sense of loss as if something has just slipped out of his grasp. He remembers how happy they’d all been on the day that Teddy had been born, when his hair had turned blue for the first time, a bright spot in the war’s endless crushing darkness. Despite her exhaustion, Tonks had swept Remus into a passionate kiss. Andromeda had laughed for the first time since they’d gotten word of Ted’s death, a snort of a thing sounding all the more genuine for its unrestrainedness.

“It’s okay, Tad,” Teddy says, looking up at him with big eyes. Remus isn’t sure how much of that exchange he’s picked up on, but he knows that Teddy can understand the frown on his face. He quickly schools his expression into a smile.

“Yes, it’s okay, Teddy,” Remus says, getting up and walking over to his son. “Do you want a _cwtch_?” When Teddy nods, he takes the boy from Tonks’s arms and hugs him tightly, kissing the top of his head. Even as the fear of the wolf suffuses Remus’s every action, his words are true. “It’s alright. You’re wonderful just like this.” He is surprised that it is so easy to believe his words and then feels disgusted at himself. Regardless of everything else, he will not let Teddy grow up hating himself, feeling shame for who he can’t help being. 

Chiara gives them the recipe for a mild healing potion that Teddy can have to reduce the pain. “And if you need anything, just owl me,” she says firmly, looking at Remus. “We have to be there for each other.” 

“Yes,” Remus says softly. “Thank you.” 

She leaves through the floo after giving Tonks a tight hug and extracting a promise from her to catch up over drinks sometime soon.

“Oh Morgana, it’s getting late,” Tonks says, glancing down at her watch, a dull bronze timepiece whirring slightly that had been Moody’s. Remus remembers that, as Deputy Head Auror, she needs to proctor Auror exams this week which requires a very early start. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight, Teddy?” 

“’m fine, Tata,” Teddy says. The title for Dora, an early attempt by Teddy to say “Tonks”, had stuck and Tonks said it suited her far better than most other alternatives. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Really, really, really—”

“Yes! I’m really, really sure!” Teddy beams up at Tonks. The exchange is familiar to Remus’s ears, just not in this context. 

“Okay. If you need me in the night, floo me. And I’ll be at the Ministry during the day, so you can owl me there. Or send a patronus,” Tonks says, looking up at Remus, who nods. 

“Of course. We’ll call you if anything happens,” Remus says. “Er, Sirius, can you get Teddy started with dinner?”

“Yeah,” Sirius says quickly, seeming to understand Remus’s intentions. He takes Teddy to the kitchen, easily distracting the boy with talk of food. 

Tonks crosses over to the fireplace, staring pensively at the box of floo powder on the mantle.

“Are you really fine with all this?” Remus asks. 

“Him being a werewolf?” Dora asks. “Should it matter whether or not I’m fine with it?”

“Your feelings matter,” Remus asserts, strongly reminded of some of the last arguments they’d had before their divorce. His leaving during her pregnancy, despite his return and constant apologies, had driven a wedge into their relationship that they had never been able to quite bridge the gap of by being completely honest, by being fully vulnerable with each other ever again. She had been scared of saying anything that could push him away yet again and he had been too filled with shame over his actions to press her further. Remus cannot blame her for not wanting to be completely forthcoming with him. 

Tonks shrugs. “He’s a strong kid and we’ll get through it, just like we have everything else. I can’t believe you’re already trying to be a pessimist about this.”

“I’m not being pessimistic,” Remus forces himself to keep his tone steady, managing to stem the rising tide of annoyance. “I know just how painful it can be to be a—”

“Yes, as you _love_ reminding everyone around you,” Dora says impatiently, trying to maintain her front of forced good cheer with flippancy. But she’s never been much good at hiding her feelings, Remus thinks wryly, remembering the iron grey hair and pinched lips that she’d constantly worn for the month leading up to their divorce. He remembers the constant anxiety that had suffused him in those days, unsaid words building up with every minor disagreement and corroding everything good between them. “Really. It’s fine. Anyway, I’m off, but like I said, call me if Teddy needs me.”

“See you,” Remus mutters as she disappears into the green flames. It’s been a year and half since their divorce and they tend to get along alright for the most part now, but at the first sign of tension everything falls apart. They fall apart. Both of them had been excellent at searching for the quickest escape from a conflict and, if an exit didn’t present itself immediately, then stonewalling each other with pleasant facades as if everything was perfect while the tension built up to a boiling point before exploding, pelting their relationship with irrecoverable shrapnel.

He sighs and decides to occupy himself with brewing some tea since he knows he won’t be sleeping much tonight. Sirius is sitting at the kitchen table, talking as Teddy eats his round roti and sukhi bhindi, the fried pieces of okra little yellow stars in dark green skin. It was another recipe that Sirius had learnt from Euphemia Potter a long time ago. “’Least I have the cooking spells to remember Effy by,'' Sirius had said to Remus the week after Euphemia and Fleamont’s funeral. Then he’d lapsed back into mournful silence, staring sadly at James who was sorting through his parents’ things on the kitchen table in the Walthamstow flat the Marauders shared. They’d been nineteen. 

Sirius is speaking to Teddy in Gujarati, likely something about the magical creature shelter that he works at part-time since Remus can catch brief mentions of kneazles and nifflers between the Gujarati words. Although Remus has gotten to know a little bit of Gujarati and French by living with Tonks and Andromeda, then Sirius, who all always try to speak them when Teddy’s around, Remus has been considering taking some time this summer to actually study the languages. He wonders if he’ll be able to muster up the energy to do that now on top of dealing with his son’s lycanthropy. 

“Did you say that a kneazle nearly bit your nose off?” Remus asks, catching some of Sirius’s last sentence, punctuated by Teddy’s awed “Wow!”.

“Yeah, that one’s a right old bas—” Sirius quickly cuts himself off, making Remus chuckle. “I mean, a bad boy.”

“By the time Teddy gets to Hogwarts, he’ll know curse words in four languages. A true polyglot,” Remus murmurs.

“A true Marauder,” Sirius says. They both watch Teddy finish off the last of his dinner before he claps his hands, declaring, “I’m done!” 

Then he looks up at Remus, his eyes widening innocently. “Wanna choc’late, Tad. Please.” 

Sirius bursts out laughing. “Tonks did promise him…” 

Right now, Remus can’t find it in himself to deny anything that his son wants. He retrieves a bar of Honeydukes’ Finest from the top cabinet, locked with a charm to prevent certain intrepid toddlers from using accidental magic to access it, and breaks off a few pieces for Teddy, giving some to Sirius and saving several for himself. The sweetness of the chocolate is comforting, a slight pinprick of happiness amidst all this. 

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Remus says softly in Sirius’s ear. 

“I think he’ll manage,” Sirius says, his voice just as low. 

“But will I,” Remus can’t help muttering, barely loud enough to hear. And he thinks that he could pull Sirius into his arms, embrace him as tightly as he can and never let him go when Sirius murmurs, “We’ll try,” wanting to wrap himself in that understanding. 

* * *

When it’s not a full moon, and he supposes that will have to change now along with every single other thing, Remus always leaves his door cracked open a bit, letting in just a little light from the lamp in the hallway. And almost every night, it’s pushed open by Padfoot, the black mass of the dog a silhouette against the soft yellow glow of the hall. The dog inevitably makes its way forward and jumps into the bed with a soft doggy sigh, and every morning, Remus wakes up with Padfoot sprawled out on his bed. Sometimes he’s woken by a slobbery wet lick to the face, Sirius’s way of alerting him he’s in danger of being late for class. 

When the door opens tonight, Remus looks up from the book on astrological divination he’s reading in a futile attempt to bore himself to sleep, expecting to see Padfoot. But instead, Sirius’s shadowed tall, lean form is in the door. 

“Padfoot,” Remus says, sitting up straight. Has something else happened with Teddy? Sirius seems to realize the conclusion that he’s come to, because he immediately steps forward.

“It’s nothing to do with Teddy. I checked on him and he’s still sleeping soundly. But,” and here, Sirius actually looks nervous, something Remus is unfamiliar with when it doesn’t involve Harry or Teddy. Sirius takes a breath and continues. “Was thinking about trying to be alright and thought I’d start with actually trying to sleep through the night as well, as a person. Andy’s mind healer keeps bothering me about it.”

“That’s a good place to start,” Remus says. Even though Sirius has been going to the mind healer that Andromeda had suggested for two years now, he still hasn’t gotten out of the habit of referring to Healer Bellchant as “Andy’s little mind healer” and makes jokes of their suggestions most of the time even as he reluctantly follows the ones he finds “not so barmy”. Although the mind healer has prescribed Sirius an anti-depressant potion that he takes twice a week with breakfast, Sirius still doubts the effectiveness of the bubbling lilac potion, expecting an instant effect like most other potions. He’d complained at length about an ageing potion being able to make him look forty years older in the span of a few minutes but this potion not being able to immediately rid his mind of all the agony that had taken root over the years, burrowing deep into his head. Remus’s comparison to muggle medicine, saying it was a slow excavation chipping away at accumulated pains rather than a one-and-done blast, had helped a bit, but Sirius is still often dissatisfied by his progress. 

“And well, it will help if someone else’s there, Moony,” Sirius continues. Remus had picked up on this a while ago. It made sense. Sirius hadn’t had anything to keep him company except for the dementors’ darkness for twelve years and then he’d been in hiding for a year with little contact other than Buckbeak. Next had been the disastrous year in Grimmauld Place, which had choked all the light and life from him. And finally, he’d been lost behind the veil for two years until the last battle at Hogwarts, when he had burst out of thin air to save Remus and Tonks from certain death. Sirius has not said much about that time behind the veil beyond “bit of a change from dear old mum’s screeching”, but Remus’s impression has been that it’s not a place particularly well-suited to social gatherings. 

One of the last things Remus wants is for Sirius to be surrounded by nothing other than his thoughts and bitter memories for company yet again, which is why he’d easily accepted Sirius’s offer to move into his bungalow on the outskirts of London a few months after he had gotten divorced. While he would never admit it out loud, Remus is a bit glad that Sirius hasn’t settled down with a nice bloke yet because the house has ample space for a growing child and Teddy adores Sirius.

“What are you waiting for?” Remus says when he sees that Sirius is still standing at the foot of his bed, still looking oddly hesitant. Remus tugs the corner of the comforter up and Sirius smiles, coming forward.

He spreads himself out on the bed next to Remus, leaving Remus with a scant one-third of the mattress space.

“How do you always take up so much space?” Remus asks, which makes Sirius howl with laughter, almost nervous in its enthusiasm and all the more welcome for it.

“Magic,” he says, grinning up at Remus, which starts Remus off on another round of laughter.

“I needed that,” Remus says, once he’s regained some measure of sobriety. “Is it alright with you if I leave the light on so I can read?”

“That’s fine. Prefer that,” Sirius yawns, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. 

* * *

Remus wakes up to an arm thrown over his waist, warm skin against the back of his neck, and Teddy jumping up and down in front of his face.

“What is it?” Remus mumbles blearily.

“Wanna play catch,” Teddy says, levering himself up on the bed and leaning over Remus to tug at a lock of Sirius’s hair.

“He’s already making good on that promise,” Remus chuckles, rubbing his eyes. Sirius makes a sleepy noise of protest, but manages to sit up, pulling away from Remus as he stretches. It feels oddly cold without Sirius’s touch, which Remus chalks up to the warming charm on the blankets needing a refresh. He’ll do that when he gets home from Hogwarts in the evening, since he only has three classes today.

“Let’s get some tea in me and some food in you, then we can play,” Sirius says, smiling fondly at Teddy, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners. Remus thinks that he’d be quite happy if he woke up to that sight every day.

“Fine, Pads,” Teddy says, looking crestfallen and Remus is grateful to see that his son’s behavior hasn’t changed at all.

“I can have breakfast with you two, but I need to head to Hogwarts after that. I’m surprised that my NEWT students haven’t already started trying to floo in to ask me more questions about what will be on the exam…” Remus says as he follows Sirius and Teddy to the kitchen. 

“You say that like you weren’t one of those students,” Sirius teases as he gets breakfast ready, starting the kettle and making the eggs crack themselves into the pan with a wave of his wand. 

“We can’t all be Sirius Black, effortlessly good at everything he tries.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius says with another fond smile, the exchange well-trod between the two of them. 

As he finishes the last of his eggs, Remus hears Sirius asking Teddy in Gujarati if he wants to go to St. James’s Park. 

“Yeah!” Teddy responds enthusiastically and Sirius fondly ruffles his hair. Remus nearly wants to cry with happiness that his son’s energy seems to be at its usual level.

“Go on,” Sirius says, turning to Remus.

“Alright. Thank you, Sirius,” Remus says. “A _cwtch_ , Teddy?” When Teddy responds with an enthusiastic “Yes, Tad!”, he leans down to give Teddy a tight hug and a kiss on the head. “Have fun with Sirius today, Teddy.” 

* * *

“How did it go today?” Sirius asks when Remus tumbles in through the floo, dusting off his robes.

“I had my sixth years practice nonverbal spells. That’s always difficult, but I think they’re doing relatively well…” Remus trails off. He tells himself that if something went wrong today, Sirius would have already told him, would have sent him a patronus as soon as it happened. “And how did it go with Teddy?” 

“He had fun at the park, yeah,” Sirius says, smiling. “Tried to pet every dog he saw. He’s napping now.” 

That’s normal. Teddy naps regularly in the afternoon. Most children his age do, Remus reminds himself. 

“That’s good to hear,” Remus says, looking up at Sirius. His hair is up in a messy knot and he’s wearing a worn Stones tee over a pair of black denims, his usual muggle attire. Carelessly handsome as always. “Er, I just. I want to thank you for everything.” 

“You don’t need to,” Sirius says immediately. 

“I can’t thank you for helping me take care of my son especially after… this happened?”

“Don’t act like it was something that was ever a question,” Sirius says firmly. “He’s my family too. And I can be there for him in the way I couldn’t for Harry.” 

Remus had guessed at that a bit, but it’s sobering to hear Sirius say it out loud. “I really do appreciate everything that you’ve done, though.”

“Of course. D’you want some tea? We still have some of those ginger biscuits that Andy made,” Sirius says, leading him to the kitchen. 

“So, I don’t think I ever managed to get the extended family terms straight,” Remus says over tea and biscuits. “Are you Teddy’s uncle… once removed? Or his second cousin?” 

Sirius chuckles. “Nah, he’s my first cousin twice removed. Grand-godfather sounds better, though.” 

“Easier to remember, too,” Remus comments. Having only grown up with his mam and dad before they both passed away in his twenties, he’s never quite been able to remember the complexities of pureblood families’ sprawling tangles. 

“Don’t be too bothered about it, I’ve got no idea what the proper Gujarati or French word for either of those is. Maybe something like _mhota mama_ , but Padfoot works well enough,” Sirius continues. 

According to Sirius, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black had been founded nearly a thousand years ago by a sorceress named Tara, known as the Scourge of the Western Ghats, with a fondness for hexing muggles. She had fled Gujarat during the Chalukya Dynasty, establishing “the noble Black tradition of scarpering away from all the consequences of your arseholery”. When the local wizarding community had tried to apprehend her, Tara had escaped to the Kingdom of France where she’d met a French warlock named Black that shared her propensity for wreaking havoc on muggles, although he rather preferred the more subtle method of surreptitiously placing cursed objects into the possession of various members of nobility. The two had fallen in love, together inflicting the darkest hexes and curses they could come up with on anyone that crossed them and “spawning loads more bigoted wankers”, eventually becoming an integral part of pureblood society in Western Europe. Remus only knows his grandparents’ names and nothing beyond that, so it’s difficult for him to wrap his head around the literal millennium that the House of Black has been in existence, their clear cosmology. Sirius usually tells him not to bother anyway, saying that the “most important bit”, Teddy, is right in front of him.

He appreciates that Sirius always tries to make an effort to speak to Teddy in Gujarati and French when he’s staying here, adding it to the scant Welsh Remus knows. He had made plans to send Teddy to a Welsh-medium magical school in Carmarthenshire for his primary school education so that he could grow up fluently speaking the language, unlike Remus. Andromeda had encouraged Remus’s idea for Teddy’s early schooling, saying that she was quite excited about the possibility of Teddy knowing four languages. She’d spoken at length about him being able to apply for the international study programs after Hogwarts, perhaps studying magical law like she did at the Panthéon-Sorbonne University in Paris or wizarding diplomacy at Ahmedabad University. Remembering all this, Remus suddenly feels a wave of anxiety crash down upon his shoulders, thinking about Andromeda and the ambitious plans laid for her grandson’s future.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius says, immediately catching Remus’s frown, the furrow of his brow.

“Andromeda won’t be happy.”

“She’ll get over it. I’ll deal with her if she doesn’t,” Sirius says fiercely. “What’s another furry little problem after everything else?”

Remus suddenly feels a snap of anger, his worries sharpening into irritation. If it was anyone else, he would fortify his calm façade and shrug it off, but this is Sirius. Both of them intimately know the dangers of maintaining the peace and letting lies smooth the way, letting buried truths fester for twelve years. They both deserve better than that. So he lets the infuriation pierce the surface. “It’s not a _little_ problem, Sirius.”

“You and I will take care of him during the full moons and he’ll have wolfsbane in a few years—” Sirius starts to say, but Remus cuts him off. 

“And what if he misses a dose? What if someone decides to tell their schoolyard rival exactly where to find him during a full moon?” Remus growls, rage roiling in his chest. Now that he’s let it out, it feels like it’ll never recede. 

Instead of rising to the challenge though, Sirius just nods and looks down at the kitchen table, inhaling deeply as if he’s grabbing onto the air around him to steady himself. A memory of Sirius complaining about the “bloody daft” breathing exercises his mind healer was making him do comes to mind. 

“Yeah. So we’ll show him exactly how to deal with idiots like me. Tell them properly to sod off,” Sirius finally says. He’s gripping the red cloth of the table covering slightly and Remus can see the conscious effort he’s making to hold himself together. As Sirius inhales and exhales again, Remus can’t help following him, his own anger lessening slightly with the deep, slow breaths. Instead of feeling like he’s shoving his anger down and letting it simmer as usual, it is as if he is letting it go with each breath, a sort of catharsis. 

Sirius finally looks up, his expression fierce. “We’ll show him. Together.” 

“We’ll make a world where he can live a happier life,” Remus says softly. The words are a thought he’s often repeated to himself over the past few years. Somehow, he is lighter, no unsaid words or simmering anger weighing his stomach down. He reaches forward to put his hand over Sirius’s hand, which has relaxed against the tablecloth. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take my anger out on you…” Remus starts, but Sirius shakes his head. He starts to move his hand and a piece of Remus, the part that loathes solitude the most, cries out in disappointment, but Sirius is simply turning his hand over so that their palms are touching. The rough calluses of his fingers are comforting and familiar. 

“No. You’re worried about Teddy. I get it, Moony,” Sirius says, his thumb stroking over the lines of Remus’s palm, the hold reassuring, a tangible reminder that Remus is not alone in this. 

* * *

They go over to Andromeda’s on Friday night for their monthly family dinner. The tradition had been established a few months after the war by Andromeda, when they all needed something consistent to anchor them and draw them together. 

As they step out into the living room, filled with elegant dark furniture chosen by Andromeda and a dark grey muggle recliner that had been Ted’s, violet throw pillows on both of them courtesy of Tonks, Remus feels a gnawing pit of anxiety in his stomach. The last time he’d felt like this was a year ago, the very first time that he’d come over for dinner after his and Tonks’s divorce. 

Dora, of all people, had prodded him to come along, saying that a little marital discord shouldn’t get in the way of him enjoying Andromeda’s biryani even though they’d just signed the divorce papers a few months prior and Sirius had said that he’d fling a Protego in front of Remus if Andromeda tried to fire any hexes his way, so Remus had reluctantly accepted.

The meal had started out unbearably awkward, Andromeda punctuating half of what she said with pointed barbs about _commitment_ and _respect_ and Remus unable to even glance in Andromeda’s general direction, but Harry and Ginny had thankfully acted as conversational buffers. The two of them had managed to occupy much of dinner with continual talk about the start of Ginny’s season with the Holyhead Harpies and Harry’s Auror training, Sirius easily encouraging them with constant questions. That had seemed to distract Andromeda well enough and the next time Remus had come over for dinner, she’d cooled off slightly, giving him a tepid greeting and politely inquiring after him. 

But this time isn’t the same. It’s not an amicable-enough divorce between two grown adults, it’s her three-year-old grandson and the rest of his life. Remus swallows, anxiety gripping his throat tightly, threatening to choke out any cheer he can muster up.

“Hey!” Harry cheerfully greets them at the entrance to the dining room, stepping forward to embrace Remus before squatting down to give Teddy a squeeze round his middle. Harry is taller than Remus now, nearly as tall as Sirius, and Remus feels a small jolt realizing that he’s taller than James ever was.

“Haven’t seen you in too long,” Sirius says, pulling Harry into a presumably bone-crushing hug. 

“You saw me and Ginny last week when you came for her game!” Harry laughs even as he hugs Sirius back just as tightly, brown fingers splayed out on the crimson fabric of Sirius’s shirt. “She couldn’t make it tonight because she’s got another game tomorrow.”

“Against the Cannons, right?” Sirius says, quickly drawing Harry into Quidditch talk. Remus smiles as he watches the two of them. Harry and Sirius are always eager to make the most of shared times together, especially after Sirius had nearly been lost forever. 

As they wait for Andromeda, Remus tries to make himself relax. He tries to rationalize, lay what he knows out in simple terms that make sense to draw logical conclusions, a strategy that has often served him well. 

After being properly pardoned and recognized as being alive by the Ministry, Sirius had been able to sign over Orion Black’s Wizengamot seat to Andromeda, saying she’d do much more good with it than he could. True enough, Andromeda takes great pleasure in undercutting the opinions of the most wizards-first and pureblood-leaning members with well-reasoned arguments backed up by her years studying magical law in Paris as well as her firsthand experiences of the worst of pureblood culture. 

Andromeda and her protege Hermione, along with Kingsley, have been instrumental in getting many pieces of legislation repealed, like the Animagus registration act and the anti-werewolf legislation drafted by Dolores Umbridge several years ago. She and Hermione had asked Remus to testify for the latter, and their efforts in getting the repeal through the Wizenmagot had been fierce and thankfully, very successful. Although Remus doesn’t often speak to Andromeda beyond social niceties and conversations about Teddy, Hermione keeps him apprised of their latest battles, often asking him about his thoughts on a case, and Remus is always happy to receive an owl from his former student. 

Andromeda is reasonable, he tells himself. Just a bit overprotective, for very understandable reasons, of the people that she loves. 

Even with all this in mind, Remus still flinches slightly when the figure of Andromeda Black Tonks appears in the doorway.

" _Nanima_!" Teddy exclaims happily. 

“Hello, Teddy!” she says, scooping up her grandson who immediately grabs at her silver-bordered dupatta. “You’re getting a little too big for me to carry,” she observes, looking at him. Her keen dark eyes immediately focus on Teddy’s mousy brown hair, the plasters on his outstretched arm stark against his light brown skin, and his amber eyes, so like Remus’s own. Remus’s body goes cold, sharp shame jolting down his spine. 

Andromeda glances at Remus and the pursed set of her lips says it all. “Let’s eat first, shall we?” she says coolly.

“Um, Tonks told me that Teddy’s…” Harry is saying to Sirius. Remus takes a deep breath, thinking of Sirius’s breathing exercises from the other day. The steadying exhalation galvanizes Remus enough to step forward and sit down next to Sirius, preparing himself for the coming meal. 

“So you’ve got to tell us how you did on your Auror exam,” Sirius says to Harry. 

“Tonks wants to be there when I tell you guys,” Harry says, but the grin on his face makes the answer obvious and Remus can’t help the warm smile that emerges on his own face. 

“There she is, so you’ve got no excuse now,” Sirius grins as Tonks strides into the room, bumping into one of the cabinets in the process. The cabinet doesn’t wobble at all and Remus remembers Ted telling him that they had put extra-strong sticking charms on every piece of furniture in the house to avoid Tonks shattering it all. 

“Did you tell them, Harry?” Tonks asks eagerly, her curly golden hair bouncing slightly as she takes Teddy from her mother’s arms. 

“I am now,” Harry says, looking very pleased. “I passed the exam! So did Ron!” 

It’s easy to occupy the first half of dinner from there, all of them congratulating him and lobbing several questions at Harry and Tonks about the exam, Tonks recounting his performance with copious praise. Although he comes in with a few questions of his own, and is very pleased to note that Harry found his Defense tutoring helpful and that Ron was top in the strategy and reasoning portion of the exam, Remus can see that Sirius is laying it on a bit thick even for him. Remus is long past needing to be protected from the consequences of his actions, no matter how unintentional. So, after Harry has finished telling them all about how he aced the concealment and disguise portion of the exam by conjuring a particularly impressive mustache, Remus turns to Andromeda.

Teddy is next to her, at the very end of the table, and she’s patiently watching him eat, murmuring to him in Gujarati and making sure that he doesn’t pick all the veg bits out. She seems to feel Remus’s gaze on her back and turns to look him in the eye.

“So,” she starts. Tonks, Sirius, and Harry all seem to go silent at the same time and he knows that they’re all watching the two of them. 

“It seems that Teddy takes after you more than we’d thought,” Andromeda says, her tone carefully diplomatic. He imagines himself on the stand, her words a lure leading him down the road of admitting his guilt, inevitably ending in his conviction. 

“Yes,” Remus says, forcing himself not to look away from her piercing brown eyes. The confession, now. “Andromeda, I am truly sorry. If I’d known it was still a possibility...”

She holds a hand up, silencing him with the stern look on her face. “Don’t apologize unless you're planning to leave again.”

“I…” Remus trails off, the bluntness of her words unexpected, yet welcome. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the uncomfortable expression on Harry’s face, clearly remembering the time he’d reprimanded Remus for doing exactly that. As shameful as that moment between them had been, he had sorely needed the dressing-down. 

“Well? Are you planning to do that again?” Andromeda presses, her voice still even. 

“No, of course not,” Remus says, feeling the truth of his words. They settle in his chest, steeling his resolve. “He’s my son. I’m not going to leave ever again, no matter what.”

“Good,” she says simply and reaches over to spoon more yogurt onto Teddy’s plate. Remus swears that he can hear Harry, Sirius, and Tonks all simultaneously exhale a sigh of relief.

“So, how are classes going, Remus?” Sirius asks even though he asks Remus about his day every day over tea or dinner at home, always eager to hear about hexes gone wrong or the mischief that his students get up to. But Remus appreciates the escape and gladly takes it. It’s almost easy to forget, listening to Tonks conspiratorially whispering to Harry about making some celebratory drink for him and Ron called “Mad-Eye’s Left Buttock”, and Sirius cheerfully telling them about his progress with a particularly ill-spirited diricawl at the shelter. But everything comes to an end. 

As they finish dinner, Andromeda clears up quickly, making masala chai for the adults and some milk for Teddy, then beckons Remus to the study. 

The dark wooden shelves are brimming with books, neatly organized by subject. Remus recalls that most of them are dry legal treatises and not something that even he would find much interest in. Perhaps if he needs another book to dull him to sleep, he thinks briefly before Andromeda shuts the door.

“Will you stop looking so worried, I’m not going to hex you,” Andromeda says. “And if I did manage to get a spell off on you, then it’s likely time for Hogwarts to get a new Defense professor.” 

Remus exhales, the knot of anxiety in his chest loosening. “It’s just that I worry so much about Teddy. I know that you have high hopes for him…” 

“I worry about him too,” Andromeda says quietly. “In the same way that I used to worry about Dora. Just like I still worry about her.”

“Does that ever get easier?” Remus asks and she shakes her head, a wry twist to her mouth.

“You get used to it. You learn that you can’t protect your child from everything evil in the world, and sometimes they’ll go running off to face it head on…” Andromeda sighs. “I’m not going to pretend that I’ll ever know what it’s like, having lycanthropy, but I do know a few things about… about not wanting to see yourself in your child.” 

“Are you talking about your family?” Remus asks as gently as he can. He remembers Sirius expressing similar sentiments, but with quite a bit more cursing. 

“Yes,” Andromeda says, glancing at the desk. Amidst the neat stacks of parchment and scrolls, Remus sees a framed picture of her, Ted, and Dora. It’s probably about ten years old. Ted has his arms around both of them, Andromeda is beaming at the camera, and Tonks’s hair is wavering between pink and purple. 

“At first, when she was little, I tried to avoid every mention of my family. But children are too smart for that… she’d ask me why we always went to see Ted’s parents but not mine. She’d poke around my old school things in the attic and find all the old pictures of my sisters. Dora would just keep asking me more questions, and she got more and more fed up with my lackluster answers. Eventually, Ted told me that trying to hide it from her was doing more harm than good. That I couldn’t try to divide everything up so neatly and have her only see the good parts, but that I could help her deal with the bad. So, I stopped denying it.” 

“That makes sense." 

“I suppose I should have known Dora would grow up to be an Auror. She was always quite good at catching dark wizards even when they were only memories locked in the attic,” Andromeda smiles, firm but warm. “Remus, I’m not saying that this is going to be easy. But trying to avoid the truth won’t help. You Gryffindors are rather rubbish at lying, anyway.” 

* * *

“You survived dinner,” Sirius says as Remus steps out of the fireplace with Teddy in his arms.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Remus mutters good-naturedly as he carries his son, asleep on his shoulder, to his bedroom. Even though the boy is fond of claiming that he can stay up all night, he’s always asleep before the clock hits nine.

“Not many men have survived interrogation by Andromeda Tonks,” Sirius says. He comes over to stand on the other side of Teddy’s cozy new bed, expertly transfigured by Sirius from the remains of the crib and a spare pillow. Remus pulls the lion-print comforter over his son, kissing him on the forehead and Sirius gives Teddy’s shoulder a fond squeeze before going to the open door. 

“Whiskey?” Sirius asks, glancing back at Remus. 

“Please,” Remus says. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” 

When Sirius is gone, he looks down at his sleeping son again. He is overwhelmed with warm affection for this boy and fierce determination to always keep him safe. “I’m not leaving you ever again, no matter what,” he says quietly. “I love you so much, Teddy.” 

Remus closes the door nearly all the way, leaving a crack to let in light since Teddy doesn’t like it to be completely dark despite his claims that he’s a big boy now, and goes to the living room, laying back on the couch. It’s a particularly lumpy red thing that Sirius had loved on sight, although Remus suspects that he’d only bought it from the flea market because it was Gryffindor scarlet. Not that Remus minds much since it’s very comfortable, especially after a long day teaching. 

“Just a bit for each of us,” Sirius says as he hands a half-full glass to Remus. Since Teddy’s here, he doesn’t need to say. When the boy isn’t here, they often spend bad nights passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth, as if they’re sharing the pain that can’t be said in words. It’s a good way of ensuring that both of them feel dreadful the next morning but aren’t completely destroyed. Those nights are fewer in number now, but he’s still thankful to have Sirius by his side.

Sirius sits down at the other end of the couch, remembering to settle Remus’s feet in his lap so that his legs aren’t at an odd angle liable to cause aches before long.

Remus looks at the man in front of him, his handsome profile, the sharpness of his cheekbones that has remained even eight years after Azkaban, and the silver threads in his long black hair, still retaining most of its original color compared to Remus’s mess of grey-brown hair. Remus feels a warm wave of heat down his back and his stomach almost as if—but no, it must simply be relief at getting through dinner. 

“I’m glad that you’re here with me,” Remus says clumsily and immediately feels rather awkward, his cheeks warming. He's sure his cheeks must be pink by now. What’s going on with him? This is _Sirius_ , his last fellow Marauder, his housemate, his distant ex-some cousin or other-in-law, and his best friend. 

“Of course, Moony,” Sirius says, but he’s looking down at his glass, not Remus. And Remus realizes just how selfish he’s been.

“Er, you should…” Sirius looks up at Remus’s words, his grey eyes alert. “You should find a nice bloke to settle down with.

“Dunno, I think you’re nice enough,” Sirius mutters, looking away. He pats Remus’s ankle, staring down at his green-and-yellow striped sock. Remus almost wants to laugh out loud at Sirius’s obliviousness. 

“No, I mean a proper relationship. A boyfriend or something like that,” Remus clarifies. 

“I’m alright like this if you are,” Sirius says, taking a long sip, then glancing at Remus again. Remus blinks, feeling like he’s missed a step in the conversation.

“Of course I’m happy living here and that you’re here with Teddy and I…”

“Then that’s settled. So, d’you fancy anyone, Moony?” Sirius says.

“Do I look like I have the time?” Remus smiles, taking a sip of whiskey. “There isn’t exactly a large dating pool at Hogwarts.”

“No hot dates with Peeves?” 

“That's right, we've been carrying on a torrid love affair for years. But beyond that, even if I wasn’t otherwise occupied, I doubt there are many people eager to date a divorced forty-one year old lycanthrope.” 

“You’d be surprised. Can’t be any less than the number of people who’d fancy an ex-convict that spends half his time as a dog. And came back from the dead, can’t forget that one,” Sirius drains the rest of his glass in one go. “I’m knackered.”

“I’m ready to tuck in myself too,” Remus says, suppressing a yawn. From the amused smile on Sirius’s face, it looks like he’s failed to completely hide it. 

Neither of them bother with changing into pyjamas, both of them taking off their shirts and trousers. Remus pulls on a worn old Pink Floyd t-shirt lying on the bed which he belatedly realizes must be Sirius’s since he doesn’t have any band t-shirts himself, but Sirius only shrugs, easily settling in next to him. As he leans forward to turn off the light on his side of the bed, he feels Sirius’s hand on his waist, and just as quickly, Sirius withdraws his hand.

“Merlin. Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Sirius says, looking strangely nervous in the meager light left by the candle flickering on his bedside table. 

“It’s all right,” Remus says, patting Sirius’s hand where it’s laying on his bare stomach. “It’s not like we won’t end up that way by morning anyway. And it’s rather cozy. I think that’s something both of us need a bit.” 

“Yeah. It is,” Sirius relaxes, wrapping his arms snugly around Remus’s waist as Remus resettles himself so that he can feel Sirius’s soft breath on the back of his neck. It’s easy to sink into Sirius’s touch, the comforting warmth of his embrace that makes heat spark even in Remus’s stomach. With that, and the still-lingering effect of the whiskey as well as their delicious dinner, they fall asleep quickly. 

However, before long, Remus is woken by a scream of terror. He bolts upright, terrified that something has happened to Teddy before he realizes that the shout has come from the man next to him. Sirius is wild-eyed, frantically looking around the room as if he’s ready to bolt, his hair a tangled mess, before his eyes settle on Remus.

“Padfoot,” Remus says, putting a comforting arm around him. Sirius leans into him, resting his head on Remus’s shoulder. Remus can feel the up-and-down movement of his back, hear his breathing slow as he inhales and exhales. 

“Sodding nightmares,” he finally mutters. “Had a few good nights, so I thought I was past them…”

“It sounds like a really long, difficult process. But I think that you’re doing a fantastic job,” Remus murmurs, rubbing small circles into Sirius’s back, feeling some of the tension drain out of his muscles as he relaxes. “When is your next appointment with Healer Bellchant?” 

“In a couple of weeks,” Sirius says quietly. “I reckon I’ll owl them today... see what batty thing they've got to say.” 

“I think that’s a good idea,” Remus says. Sunlight is peeking through the heavy curtains, casting a pale stripe of yellow across the bed. “Do you want to get started on breakfast?” 

“Yeah, I could do with some eggs,” Sirius says, straightening up to look Remus in the face. There’s an odd note of hesitation in his expression. “I…”

“What?”

“I appreciate it, Remus,” Sirius says, quickly looking away as he moves away from Remus and gets out of bed, grabbing a pair of trousers from over the back of a chair. 

* * *

The next few weeks pass in a blur of getting fifth and seventh-years through their OWLs and NEWTs along with final exams for the rest of the students. Before long, it’s time for the next full moon.

Remus knows that he should be grateful that at least Teddy has him and Sirius there, but he can’t stop the dread welling up in his stomach. 

“Imagine how hard it would have been to get him to even take the wolfsbane without him spitting it all out anyway. You’ve said it tastes awful,” Sirius says as they sit on the couch, watching Teddy playing with blocks. The sunlight is dimming and they’re spinning closer to the transformation with every minute that passes. Soon, the gaping maw of the moon will swallow Remus and his son up. “Andromeda told me about how much of a pain in the arse it was to get Tonks to take medicine when she was a sprog. She’d just spew the potion all over Ted and Andy. At least we don’t have to deal with that.”

“Yes,” Remus murmurs. Already Teddy looks drawn, playing with the wooden blocks with none of his usual zeal, only half-heartedly stacking them. Remus can feel the echoes of the coming transformation in his bones, dragging him down slightly. He knows, however, that it is completely dwarfed by the pain that will come soon for Teddy. 

Although Chiara had approved the use of a mild pain potion, that doesn’t make Remus feel much better because Teddy will be conscious through the whole transformation. At least, small mercies, he won’t remember the worst of it. Even through more than thirty years of being a werewolf, hundreds of unmedicated transformations, it’s impossible for Remus to recall that tipping point where his humanity is finally shattered in the wolf’s jaws, where he truly _loses_ himself. He only knows agony and then, usually, the wolf’s violent rage at itself. In earlier times, there was the dog and the stag and the… the rat mitigating its anger, greeting the wolf as an old friend. He can’t help wishing he had foregone the wolfsbane so Teddy wouldn’t be suffering it alone even though leaving Sirius alone to deal with two uncontrolled werewolves would be a suicidal idea. 

“We’ll be there with him the whole way,” Sirius says softly, putting his hand on Remus’s hand where it’s resting on the couch. His touch is grounding, reminding Remus that the only way to get through this is to take it a moment at a time. 

Remus nods, looking at Sirius, thankful for his unwavering presence. “We always will. Together.” 

As the moon rises, grabbing them in its silver light, the change takes both of them. 

Although the change cannot ever be described as comfortable, with the wolfsbane it is a far cry from the pain of those unmedicated transformations, so far as to be in an entirely different universe. Awkward discomfort versus mind-shattering pain. No, it can’t ever compare. 

His hand tightly grips Padfoot’s soft dark fur, the dog pressing its face into Teddy’s own and Remus’s other arm around Teddy. Remus forces himself to keep his eyes open and on his son even as his eyesight sharpens so much it makes his head throb, even as the world loses most of its color, even as his body twists into the wolf. 

His son’s cries turn to howls, boy turns to wolf, splitting and screeching and horrible. His son—his cub—and all he can do is make the most meager reassurances, nuzzling the soft fur of his head in an attempt to calm him as canines do. As they do. 

The cub relaxes against the wolf’s side, whimpering slightly. 

_Yes safe safe safe,_ the wolf communicates with another nudge to the head, the gentlest bark. The dog makes a small woofing sound that sounds very much like agreement. _With family safe safe safe now_. The feelings of _pack_ and _love_ nearly overwhelm the wolf, imbuing all its actions with nothing but what is in the service of those. There is nothing else the wolf can feel, no room for doubts or fears, easily washing away the man’s anxieties. 

_Play play,_ the cub finally communicates with a bark-howl, already sounding much stronger. 

_Yes,_ the wolf howls in response. It will do anything for the cub, anything to make it safe and happy and loved. It will tear through anything that stands in the cub’s way with its own teeth. On that, both the wolf and the man are in agreement. 

* * *

“How are you feeling, Teddy?” Remus asks his son as they sit together at the kitchen table the next morning. Sirius sets down a mug of steaming tea in front of Remus before sitting across from them with his own cup of tea.

“Hurts,” Teddy mumbles, poking at his eggs unenthusiastically. Remus reaches over to start cutting the eggs into smaller pieces for him, hoping that will whet his appetite. 

“I’m sorry, son,” Remus says quietly. “It will be better when you’re older. I promise.” 

“I don’t wanna,” Teddy says, looking up at him with tears in his eyes, his bottom lip quivering. “Tad.” 

Remus feels sick, guilt gripping his throat tightly. He takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. It’s not something I can stop. If I could, I would… I’d do anything to keep you safe…” 

“Mhmmmm,” Teddy mumbles, wiping his eyes. Then, thankfully, he accepts a bit of the egg proffered by Remus on a fork, slowly chewing it. They continue like that for a bit, until Teddy finally pushes the plate away, more tears in his eyes.

“We can try again later,” Remus says. “Let’s just rest for now.” 

“Fine,” Teddy murmurs. Remus reaches forward to gently wipe Teddy’s eyes with the edge of his sleeve. He thinks that he’s very close to having to do that for himself now, the corners of his mouth tugging down in a frown. 

When Remus looks up, Sirius is watching him with a worried expression, frowning slightly. 

“Is Tonks coming today?” Remus asks. Teddy is meant to stay with Tonks and Andromeda for the next few weeks, but they’d all agreed to postpone the change for a couple of days if Teddy was still feeling ill from the moon. 

“Around noon, but I can tell her to come later. Anything you need, I’ll take care of it.” 

“No, I think that’ll be fine. Teddy, do you want to read something now? Perhaps… the Tales of Beedle the Bard?” Remus asks, which is answered by a nod from Teddy. Remus is briefly thankful because he usually can’t get Teddy to sit still long enough to listen to anything, but then realization comes crashing down on him again.

“Wanna start with Babbitty Rabbitty?” Sirius cuts in with a question to Teddy before Remus can follow that train of thought too far.

Teddy nods again, and actually smiles a little. “Yeah. She’s funny.” 

Tonks comes around noon as Sirius has said. Teddy’s fast asleep and she looks in on him before coming to the kitchen table to have tea with Remus. After assuring Sirius that he’d be fine alone here, Sirius had gone to an appointment with his mind healer. 

“You know, I’ve been talking to Chiara,” Tonks says conversationally, brushing a lock of vivid green hair behind her ear. 

“Have you?”

“Yeah. Charlie Weasley was in town last weekend, so we all went out for drinks. Good to catch up with old school friends.”

“That does sound nice,” Remus offers. He’s not sure where she’s going with this.

“Anyway, you know how you always blamed yourself for, er, Teddy coming about in the first place?”

“I suppose,” Remus says wearily, not really wanting to pursue this line of conversation further. When it had become impossible to deny that the contraception charm they’d cast had failed, it had been obvious where the fault had come in, the same place it always did.

“She told me that standard contraception charms, like the one we did, don’t work on me. Apparently they’re pretty rubbish when it comes to anyone with magic slightly out of the norm, something about the pureblood old guard not bothering with looking into anything else. Chiara said that they’re trying to do research on more effective ones now, though,” Tonks explains. 

“I’d assumed they didn’t work properly on non-humans but Metamorphmagi are still human…”

“No, no,” Tonks says quickly. “It’s not about that at all. The charm assumes that you’ll have a stable level of magic all the time, but that’s not true for werewolves or Metamorphmagi or even Animagi. You know I can’t predict what face, what body will feel right for me the next day. And that part’s not true for most Metamorphmagi, but even then, the molecular bits of our bodies are constantly changing and rearranging themselves on the inside,” She makes a face. “That sounds a bit gross. But well, do you see what I mean?”

“I think so,” Remus says softly. “So, you’re saying that the charm wouldn’t have worked on either of us?”

“Right,” Tonks says. “And besides that, I’m the one who suggested that we should do it without the…” she laughs nervously, cutting herself off. “I suppose the muggle way really is better sometimes. Might as well just forget about all these contraception charms and just hand out condoms to everyone.” 

“Actually, they’re doing that at Hogwarts now,” Remus says. “Poppy’s apprentice healer is a muggleborn and she suggested it.” 

“Oh, good. So, anyway, you can blame me instead now, if that makes you stop moping around,” Tonks says briskly and Remus immediately feels awful.

“No, I don’t… I don’t think it’s worth blaming anyone for this. Honestly, it’s a waste of time. We might as well blame Albus for getting the Order together and having us meet in the first place,” Remus sighs, running a hand through his hair, feeling as if a heavy load has just been lifted off his shoulders. They’d had some good times together. Lazy mornings spent in bed, Remus slowly pushing into her with her legs over his hips or the other way round, little stolen moments full of joyful laughter and giddy kisses. It’s easy to see all those times as tainted, first by their divorce, then by Teddy’s lycanthropy, but the effort feels futile. After all these years, after two wars, it’s too easy to deem all his memories rotten to the core, discarding all the joy in them and denying himself any happiness. If he lets regret taint all his actions, then he’ll never want to do anything ever again. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Tonks says easily. Just then, Teddy walks through the open kitchen door, his hair stuck up from sleep and his unscarred cheek still bearing the imprint of his sheets.

“Tata!” Teddy declares cheerfully and she laughs, scooping him up. 

“How are you feeling? Do you want to come home with me today?” she asks.

“Yeah!” 

“So eager to get rid of us? _Hwyl fawr_ already?” Remus smiles affectionately at his son. “Tonks, I have a bag packed with his things in his bedroom. I’ll get it now.”

“I’ll just finish my tea and then we’ll be off,” Tonks says. “And don’t act like being alone with Sirius is such a hardship.” 

* * *

“I reckon she fancies Lobosca,” Sirius laughs as he opens another beer with a wandless spell, the cap flipping off the bottle and onto the table in a shower of crimson sparks. He’d returned from the appointment in high spirits, commenting that Healer Bellchant “was only a bit barmy” today. “Drinks with an old school friend, ha.” 

“She said Charlie Weasley came too.”

“Ha,” Sirius says again. “Saw that poor sod at Ginny’s game last week. He said they spent the entire time soppily staring at each other over their butterbeers and ignoring all his stories about dragons. Tonks’s hair was all pink, like when you and her were… er.” 

“That’s in the past,” Remus shrugs and smiles, giddy and warm with the alcohol. “I don’t know, maybe it’s strange to say this about your ex-partner, but if that’s the case, then I’m happy for them.” 

“Good, then. Seems she’s got a thing for mild-mannered werewolves,” Sirius chuckles, his grey eyes intent on Remus’s face, as if he is watching for some sort of reaction from Remus. Is he concerned about Remus? That doesn’t make sense, though. Sirius knows very well that his and Tonks’s relationship is done with and he’d witnessed firsthand Remus’s exhilaration at the end of the relationship, taking him out for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron to celebrate the divorce and cheerfully welcoming Remus back to bachelorhood. “Easy to see the appeal.”

“You don’t fancy women,” Remus says, his brow creasing in confusion. He doesn’t think that Sirius has met any other werewolves either, other than a brief brush with Fenrir Greyback on the battlefield at Hogwarts and he hardly qualifies as mild-mannered by any stretch of the imagination.

“That’s right,” Sirius says, taking another sip of his beer with another sideways glance at Remus. 

Remus feels rather like he’s just missed one of Charlie’s Hungarian Horntails flying right over his head. He decides to blame the alcohol for his confusion and moves on. 

“What are you planning to do now? Teddy will be with Tonks and Andromeda for the rest of the month and I’ll be busy with exams for the next couple of weeks so you don’t need to stick around if you don’t want to…” 

Sirius has often talked about traveling properly, seeing the world as a free man and not as a convict on the run, in the shape of a dog half the time. Although he and Harry had taken a trip to Amritsar for Harry’s eighteenth birthday, Sirius’s way of making up for missing his past two birthdays and “being a bit dead”, Sirius hasn’t gotten many chances to travel outside of Britain as a free man. He often prods Remus for more stories of his travels, so it’s likely Sirius would jump at this chance to go somewhere new. 

“I’ll be busy at the shelter for the next couple of weeks. We just got two hippogriffs that were being mistreated by their breeder, some blood supremacist git, so they’ll need a lot of individual time and care,” Sirius says. “But after that, reckon I’d like to visit Paris. We can go after you’re done with exams.” 

“You… you want me to come with you?” Remus blinks. He’d worried that Sirius would be tired of spending all his time hanging around Remus and Teddy even if he seemed enthusiastic about it most of the time.

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Sirius frowns. 

“Never mind,” Remus shakes his head, settling in closer to Sirius, the heat of his body comforting. “It will be busy at this time of year, but we should be able to find a place to stay in Place Cachée. If it’s alright, I’d only like to stay for a couple of days… I don’t like being far from Teddy for long.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Sirius smiles. “Let’s do it, Moony.”

Remus returns Sirius’s smile, feeling rather like they’re running headfirst into another adventure, the way they did so long ago at Hogwarts. 

* * *

Although Remus has picked up a few useful bits of French and Gujarati—and some amount of German, Hindi, Swahili, and Spanish for that matter—over the years, he would really only call himself fluent in English, his knowledge of Welsh limited to the handful of words that his mam had used in daily life. 

Sirius, on the other hand, easily navigates everything with flawless French, which comes in handy the moment they step out of the grand golden fireplace, phoenixes carved into its marble, into Paris, France. 

The arrivals official, a stern-looking man with thick eyebrows, grabs the parchment scrolls of their passports with a scowl, the long sleeves of his deep crimson robe flapping with his hasty movements. He barely glances at Sirius’s before shoving it back at him, but then, looking at Remus’s passport, his frown grows even deeper. Although the Ministry under Kingsley has made several strides in equality for werewolves and other non-humans, the French Ministry hasn’t echoed many of these changes. Before Remus can react to the official’s consternation and draw on the social niceties that manage to get him through most interactions where his lycanthropy is an issue, Sirius starts talking. He’s speaking too fast for Remus to pick up individual words, but there’s an air of restrained anger about him, a stronger version of Andromeda’s haughtiness when she’s offended. 

“Fine,” the official finally says, still frowning. “Go,” 

“Thank you,” Remus says, smiling as pleasantly as he can, but Sirius snorts dismissively and leads him out of the arrivals room for London-Paris and into the main hall.

The ceiling is high and arched, a map of the whole world etched on it in verdant green and vivid blue, little crimson conflagrations marking the locations of every floo station that allows international travel in the world. A moving mass of hundreds of wizards and witches surrounds the two of them, a cacophony of color and sound, and Remus hears shreds of conversation in just about every language imaginable. 

It’s not just limited to witches and wizards, Remus remembers as they walk to the exit. There’s a small group of veelas near a food stand labeled Crêperie du Café de la Station in curled white lettering, several of them snacking on crepes. A vampire steps on Remus’s toe, revealing their pointed teeth as they murmur an apology in Spanish to him before slinking away. 

Sirius can’t stop looking around them, his earlier annoyance easily evaporating. He grins widely every time he catches sight of something new, like the triplets with identical long grey beards and pure golden robes that glitter in the light or the witch whose hair seems to be a crackling orange fire even as she strides through the hall looking quite calm. “This is brilliant!”

“It is,” Remus says, remembering his own first time here. It had been in late 1982 and witnessing the sheer wonder of the hall for the very first time had completely swept away his pain for a brief, exhilarating moment. Stepping into this hall had reminded him that there was still wonder in the world beyond the crushing despair that had choked him since October 31, 1981. “We could probably spend an entire day in here, but we’re only here for the weekend, so let’s go find a place to stay. Shall we?” 

As Remus had predicted, it’s not difficult to find accommodation in Place Cachée, which he explains to Sirius as the French Diagon Alley. They end up at an ancient crusty-looking hotel named La Flamme du Chaudron that looks more than a bit shady, but Sirius isn’t very picky about accommodation after Azkaban then Grimmauld Place and Remus has slept in much rougher places over the years.

Sirius briefly confers with the concierge in rapid French and then turns to Remus, his brow creasing a little. He seems nervous, but Remus can’t possibly understand why. The sign outside had said that the place had free rooms and Sirius is the last person who would get put out about something like that.

“What?”

“Do you want a room together?” Sirius says in quiet English.

“Yes, of course,” Remus frowns, confused. He had assumed that would be a foregone conclusion, but as he thinks now, he realizes that Sirius might obviously want some privacy of his own. Obviously, since he is a full-grown, unattached man… Before he can decide on the best course of action to rectify this and open his mouth again, Sirius, in his usual easy manner, is already turning back to the concierge and telling him something in the affirmative. 

He nods at the concierge’s response and turns to Remus. “Third floor.”

The room is small, but comfortable enough. There’s a large, cozy-looking quilt on the bed, a round wooden table in one corner with two mismatched chairs, art deco prints on the wall… Remus’s gaze skips back to the bed. The bed, singular. He turns back to Sirius.

“Er, they’ll think we’re shagging,” Sirius seems oddly nervous, gaze fixed on the bed instead of Remus. Remus remembers the numerous times that Sirius and James had pretended to be a couple—once to make Lily jealous (it had failed quite miserably as Remus had predicted), countless times to get free drinks during couples night at the Three Broomsticks, and twice to escape detention with Flitwick, who had a well-known soft spot for romance. Is this really so different? 

“You know that makes me look like someone to envy,” Remus smiles, trying to put Sirius at ease. He had thought that he had made it clear to Sirius long ago that he had no issue with his sexuality and that, in fact, it would be rather hypocritical if he did. “Being seen with a handsome man like you.” 

Sirius laughs, a short bark that sounds almost strangled. “Sure.” 

“Am I really that… undesirable?” Remus frowns. A forty-one-year-old divorcee that’s a lycanthrope and so much of a mess that he still feels like crying half the time he looks at his son. Who would want that, even indefatigably loyal Sirius?

“No, no,” Sirius says hastily. “They’ll all be jealous of me, being with a distinguished bloke like you.”

“Distinguished?” Remus raises an eyebrow, feeling rather like Sirius is speaking a foreign language again.

“With the grey hair and being a professor…” Sirius waves his hand dismissively, glancing away. “Never mind. Let’s get something to eat. Perhaps some of those croissants. I’m starving.”

“Alright,” Remus responds automatically, still trying to wrap his head around Sirius’s words. It’s hard to see his greying hair as anything other than the lycanthropy manifesting itself in his everyday life, a constant reminder along with the scars crossing his face, every time he looks in the mirror. He runs a hand through his hair before following Sirius out of the room. Distinguished? 

They get breakfast and then walk through Paris, wandering into wizarding and muggle districts indiscriminately. It’s difficult to avoid going into every shop either of them find interesting, especially with Sirius’s gleeful encouragement, and they end up in three bakeries, leaving with baked goods each time, a muggle bookshop with books in hundreds of languages, and a wizarding florist where the flower arrangements lob flirtations at Remus.

“That one just said that you have beautiful eyes,” Sirius translates, indicating a particularly garish bouquet of chartreuse roses.

“Ha,” Remus says. As if he’d needed any proof that roses had no visual receptors. 

They move on after a few more minutes of listening to the floral chorus, Sirius declaring that he’s ready for lunch. It’s not difficult to find a cafe serving delicious food and they sit outside at a little black metal table for lunch, people-watching as they eat sandwiches and sip wine.

“And that blonde with the hat, you see her? She’s on her third husband, but she’s shagging his half-sister and they’ve got a plan in the works to poison him and get his inheritance…” Sirius says conspiratorially.

“Are you still making up stories or are you telling me your family history?” Remus asks, making Sirius howl with laughter. Chewing on his tomato and mozzarella sandwich, Remus scans the street for anyone else that might have an interesting story, his gaze stopping on a man with a cheerful round face laden with several shopping bags. There’s potential there. He begins to open his mouth.

“Who’s this?” Sirius’s voice interrupts his train of thought. Remus turns to see Sirius petting a bulldog, its quite muscular owner regaling Sirius with what sounds like the dog’s entire life story. 

The man tells them his name is Guillaume and the dog's name is Muffy, running a hand through his artfully tousled dark hair. “Sirius. And my friend here’s Remus,” Sirius responds, indicating Remus with a motion of his hand, but Guillaume barely spares Remus a glance. Remus blames this for his immediate dislike of the man. No, it has nothing to do with the way that Sirius is grinning up at the man, an edge of want to his smile. He can’t remember the last time that he saw that look on Sirius’s face. 

Remus is reminded of a time very long ago, more than twenty years ago now. They had all gone out to a pub in London shortly before James and Lily had gotten married. Sirius, James, and Peter had been trying to outdo each other in some drinking game that none of them actually knew the rules of. Remus had been leaning against the bar and watching them, sipping slowly on a beer when a man—Remus can’t remember his name now, something like Ben or Jacob—had come up next to him, eyeing Remus. The man’s gaze had been welcomingly dark, his voice pleasantly low, and it hadn’t taken long for his hand to brush against Remus’s where it was laying on the wood of the bar.

Of course, at that exact moment, James had bounded up with the intention of making Remus join their drinking game. Luckily, Sirius hadn’t been far behind, quickly yanking James back before shooting Remus a wink and hurrying James away. Remus had nearly forgotten about the gratitude he’d felt in that moment, for having another queer man close to him who _understood_ without explanation. And well, he’d had a rather good time with that man, whatever his name had been. So, in that moment, sitting outside a cafe in Paris, Remus reminds himself that he needs to do the same for Sirius. 

However, as soon as Remus has come to this realization, Sirius turns back to him, Guillaume and his dog gone. Remus blinks. “I thought you fancied him.”

“He was alright,” Sirius says dismissively. “Not really my type. Anyway, this trip’s just for the two of us.”

“I… okay,” Remus says, oddly touched. “After we finish the wine, do you want to keep exploring?”

“Lead the way, Moony.” 

They pass the rest of the afternoon walking by the verdant blue-green water of the Seine, the sunlight at their feet dappled by the leafy trees over their heads. The cream-colored facades of the classically-styled buildings and their zinc roofs, shimmering slightly in the sun, along with the figure of the Eiffel Tower in the distance serve as a beautiful backdrop to their stroll. When they both get hungry again, they find a small Moroccan canteen in a back street and stuff themselves full with couscous and tagines, the grilled merguez and stewed vegetables delicious. As they walk back to their hotel, Remus realizes that this is the most relaxed that he has felt in a very long time, constant worries receding as he occupies himself with enjoying what’s in front of him, only concerning himself with the next moment. If only he was better at this at home. 

* * *

A scream breaks the still peace of his sleep, shattering the silence of the room. Remus jerks awake, blinking rapidly as he sits up. Next to him, Sirius is panting wildly as if something’s been chasing him. 

“Are you alright?” Remus asks, pulling Sirius into his arms and soothingly rubbing his back, smoothing Sirius’s long hair and combing out the tangles with his other hand. 

“Sorry,” Sirius mutters as his breathing steadies. “Never mind me. I’ll go for a walk and you can get some proper rest.” 

“It’s two in the morning,” Remus says, squinting at the clock. 

“I know. I know, I just need some time to get a clear head,” Sirius mutters. “Sometimes it feels like I’m back behind the veil or in Azkaban or in Grimmauld and I can’t breathe, I can’t escape…” 

“You did. You escaped and we defeated Voldemort. The war’s finally over,” Remus says. Noticing that what he’s saying is calming Sirius, he continues, Sirius relaxing with each word. “We have a bungalow just outside of London. My son Teddy lives with us half the time and you take him into the city all the time and have great fun together. Harry’s alive and well, doing so well. He’s an Auror now, just passed his exam, and he has a girlfriend now, Ginny Weasley. You go to her Quidditch games with him and the rest of the Weasleys and you’re her loudest fans…”

“That helps,” Sirius exhales. “Merlin. I know all this, but hearing you say it makes it more real.” 

“That’s good. Would you like me to keep going?” 

Sirius shakes his head. “I think I’m fine on that front. Reckon I’ll go for a walk now. Don’t think I can get to sleep again.” 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Remus asks. It’s not even a question for him, he realizes. Whatever Sirius needs him to do, he’ll do it, just like the opposite is true. 

“No, I’ll be fine on my own this time. Just need some fresh air,” Sirius says, untangling himself from Remus’s arms and sitting up straight. “Really. Thanks, Remus.”

“See you in the morning,” Remus lays back down as Sirius summons some clothes from his open trunk, his tall figure lit only by the candle always burning on his bedside table. 

“Thanks, Moony,” he hears Sirius say before the door closes. 

In the morning, Sirius is back next to him in bed, dressed only in a pair of scarlet pants and a worn shirt. Remus smiles, seeing his peacefully sleeping face. He brushes a lock of Sirius’s dark hair back from where it’s fallen over his eyes, tucking it behind his ear as Sirius blinks blearily.

“Careful there,” he chuckles. “Almost woke up before me, Moony.” 

“Just barely,” Remus returns his smile. “Good morning. What are our plans for today?” 

“Let’s go to that art museum you told me about,” Sirius says, then yawns widely, rubbing his eyes. “After some coffee.” 

After a cup of strong coffee and a chocolate croissant for each of them, they head to the Louvre. 

Although Remus’s intention is to head straight for the wizarding wing, accessible through a beckoning portrait of Circe and her pigs rendered in soft pastel colors, Sirius wants to see everything.

“I like this one,” Sirius comments, stopping in front of an impressive marble sculpture of a nearly-nude man brandishing a palm of victory, some sort of Roman figure. Despite the rigidity of the rough white marble, the flex of the man’s muscles is rendered impressively, as if there is actually blood and bone below the surface of the stone. The folded cloth preserving the sculpture’s imagined modesty almost looks as if it could yield to the touch and Remus finds himself amazed that something like this can be created without a shred of magic. “This is what proper art is, Moony,” Sirius continues.

“So you’re a connoisseur of fine art now? Or just fit blokes?” Remus chuckles, keeping his voice low enough that none of the passing muggles can catch their conversation.

“Do you even have to ask? It’s the latter, of course.”

As someone who can appreciate both, Remus is quite happy to let Sirius lead the way. They admire the soft lines of Degas’s ballerinas clad in feathered white and the dramatic bold etchings of Nettle’s lethifolds alike, the latter fluttering ominously. The warm eternal tenderness of Psyche being revived by Cupid contrasts sharply with the realism of Greengrass’s mermaids carved in white-veined obsidian, the water maidens beckoning and winking at passerby. It’s easy to pass time, exchanging comments with Sirius about every piece, half of them lewd jokes. Remus finds himself being equally awed by both the wizarding and muggle pieces and thankful that he has someone to experience it all with. Before they know it, the museum is closing even though they have only been able to make their way through a small fraction of the exhibits. 

“There might be a good restaurant nearby that we can go to,” Remus tells Sirius, recalling the wizarding eatery on the Rue de Rivoli that he’d gone nearly fifteen years ago on a date with a witch that owned a nearby bookshop. Although the relationship had fizzled out quickly, the memory of the pan-seared steak there still makes Remus’s mouth water. 

As it turns out, the restaurant, L’oeil de la Sorcière, is still there, its limestone façade melting into indistinctness, simply looking like a small blank gap between a patisserie and a designer boutique. But tapping the wall in precisely the right place, a spidery crack just above waist level, and whispering “ _Aperio_ ” reveals a door rendered in black metal, forming the shape of the eponymous witch. 

“Not the most appetizing name,” Sirius comments, looking completely unbothered as he follows Remus into the restaurant. 

The restaurant is more nicely decorated than Remus remembers, with lush scarlet table coverings and little floating golden lights illuminating the room, casting a warm glow on everything. Soft piano music plays in the background, silencing charms placed over each table muting the diners’ conversations. Luckily, it’s not too crowded, with a handful of free tables in the back, and they quickly get seated. 

The pretty brunette server beams at Sirius, responding to everything he says much more enthusiastically than she does Remus, even though she easily switches to English upon hearing his dreadful attempts at French. It’s difficult to blame her. Sirius looks handsome, as always, his dark hair rakishly loose around his face. He is wearing a fitted white shirt unbuttoned just low enough to reveal the tips of the runes tattooed on his chest—he had done them in a fit of boredom in Grimmauld Place, using the tattooing spell he and James had worked out in sixth year. When Remus had returned from an outreach mission, he’d found Sirius shirtless laying on a sofa in the sitting room of Grimmauld, his wand still hot from the spell. Sirius had told him that the runes were meant to symbolize protection for the people he cared about, “Like Harry, of course, and you too, Moony. Most bloody useful thing I can do stuck in here…” 

“I think our server fancies you,” Remus comments as Sirius bites into a lamb chop, completely ignoring the silverware lying on the table. 

“Oh. Great,” Sirius says inattentively, taking another bite of the lamb chop. The situation is rather reminiscent of the way countless girls used to swoon over him at Hogwarts while he reacted with nothing but blank stares as James and Peter seethed with envy. Remus sees the server approaching and, in a flash of Marauder inventiveness, reaches over to Sirius’s free hand where it’s lying on the table, easily threading their fingers together. If this was a muggle restaurant, he would never even think of doing it, but most in the wizarding world outside of the upper echelons of pureblood society typically don’t give two witches or two wizards together or someone who doesn’t easily fit into the witch-wizard dichotomy a second thought. At worst, he’s been met with vaguely ignorant comments, rather than outright hostility.

Sirius’s look of carelessness fades and he sets the half-eaten lamb chop down, slowly smiling at Remus. Remus smiles back, feeling his stomach swoop rather dramatically. The room seems to fade away around them, bolstered by the effect of piano music being the only thing filtering through the room to the two of them. 

A flash of white at the corner of his vision makes Remus look up, away from Sirius, to see the slightly frowning face of the server, her brows creased in disappointment. She quickly covers it up with a vaguely polite expression, proffering the fresh basket of rolls. “Shall I get more wine for you and your companion?”

“That would be great. Thank you,” Sirius smiles, trying and failing to suppress his look of amusement. He turns back to Remus, his look of happiness broadening as he laughs and Remus’s face warms with mirth, giddiness bubbling up as he squeezes Sirius’s hand. This is wonderful, he thinks. Being here with his best friend, being able to share these moments of happiness that have eluded them for so long. 

They return to London early the next day, apparating to Andromeda‘s place from the floo arrivals hall. 

“Dora just left for work. Teddy’s still sleeping,” Andromeda tells them at the door, leading them to the kitchen and setting out chai and biscuits for them. 

“We’ll wait here, if that’s alright with you,” Remus says, sitting down next to Sirius, across from Andromeda. 

“Of course. How was your trip to Paris? It must have been quite romantic,” Andromeda says. Remus nearly chokes on his tea, scalding the roof of his mouth, but manages to swallow it without further incident.

Romantic? He recalls a particularly loud American tourist they had passed proclaiming Paris the City of Love. She must be referring to that, something about the, the overall romance of being in Paris, France. Andromeda smiles at him, offering Remus another cardamom biscuit. 

“Brilliant,” Sirius says as if nothing is amiss, so Remus decides that his assumption is correct. “It was loads of fun. We found you a book about French wizarding law. Remus picked it out.”

“Oh, thank you!” Andromeda beams, taking the thick copper-bound volume that Remus had seen in a wizarding bookstore. He had taken it off the shelf and mentioned that Andromeda might like it, which had been confirmed by Sirius immediately putting down several galleons for it. Before Remus could protest, Sirius had dismissively waved a hand. “It’ll be a present from both of us. Like we gave Harry that one Christmas.” 

* * *

Although Teddy initially seems very happy to see Remus, bellowing “ _Bore da_!” and eagerly jumping into his arms for a cuddle, his smile disappears upon finding out that they have an appointment the next day to see Chiara.

“She won’t hurt you or do anything bad,” Remus says as reassuringly as he can. They are sitting in the waiting room of St. Mungo’s Dai Llewellyn Ward and it is completely empty other than them. He is thankful for the silence, thankful that they do not need to deal with curious eyes or the fear of others this time around. “It’s just to make sure that you’re growing into a big, strong boy.” 

“I don’t think that girl’s capable of hurting a flobberworm,” Tonks says on Teddy’s other side. “We’ll be there with you the whole time, Teddy.” 

Remus looks around the nearly empty waiting room, thinking about his previous visits. The last time he had been here was to visit his former student, Lavender Brown. She had been savagely attacked by Greyback during the battle of Hogwarts and just barely saved by Remus at the last moment before Sirius and Tonks had completely immobilized Greyback with stunning spells. He does not like to think of what might have happened to her if Sirius had never emerged from the veil.

Although Lavender’s condition had been dire at first, she had eventually made a full recovery and now she is studying ceromancy in Italy. Hearing about how Lavender is doing is one of the few highlights of sitting next to Sybill during meals. 

And before that, so many years ago, they had all been here to see Arthur Weasley when he had been attacked. However, Remus’s attention had quickly been drawn to the wizard next to Arthur whose lack of company was especially stark in the face of Arthur’s throng of visitors. His name had been Boris Volkov and Remus recalls that he had been a magizoologist doing research in the Cairngorms, an endeavor halted when a werewolf had bitten him. When war had broken out, Volkov had quickly left Britain, telling Remus in a hastily scribbled missive delivered by his massive eagle-owl that he wanted no part of it. Remus makes a note to owl Volkov some time in the next week to see how he’s been holding up since then.

“There you are,” Chiara’s cheerful voice interrupts his thoughts. She quickly squats down so that she’s at Teddy’s level. “Hiya Teddy! How are you holding up?” 

“Okay,” Teddy mumbles, immediately picking up on the unfamiliar earthy smell of Chiara’s wolf. It’s less strong than it was the first time she came, right after the full moon, but it’s there, an ever-present hint of her wolf, the foreign beast not of their pack. Chiara smiles easily, undeterred.

“Why don’t you and your parents come with me?” 

The appointment goes smoothly from there, Chiara performing several diagnostic spells that she demonstrates on Remus first before doing them on Teddy to show the boy that there’s nothing to be scared of. From what he knows of healing, the knowledge built up through his own studies as well as surviving two wars, the spells are meant to check the body’s alignment with the phases of the moon as well as more general things, like any internal damage or lingering injuries. 

“You look great, Teddy!” Chiara finally says, holding up her hand to give Teddy a high-five. After a moment of sober contemplation, a tiny intent frown on his face, he returns it with his little hand, making them all laugh. Then she straightens up, looking at Remus and Tonks with a more sober look on her face.

“I think that you’re both doing an incredible job. He’ll have to come to me for an appointment every six months for the next few years just to make sure that he doesn’t have any lingering damage from the transformations, but he’s much better off than most.” 

“We want him to have the best life possible,” Remus murmurs and Tonks nods in agreement. 

“Right,” Chiara says, then turns to Tonks. “Could you give us a minute, Dora?”

“Sure,” Tonks says easily, already seeming to know what’s going on. She takes Teddy's hand, turning to the door. “D’you want a snack, Teddy?” 

“Remus, would it be alright if I invited you to a group for werewolves that I’m starting?” Chiara asks when Tonks and Teddy have left the room. “It’s for older children and teens, but I think it would be really helpful to have adults who were bitten when they were young, like us, there too.” 

“A group? Like a discussion group?” Remus asks, turning the idea over in his head. While he doesn’t enjoy having his life out in the open for others to dissect, he can’t deny that showing vulnerability can be a balm to others going through similar struggles, especially young people. He remembers having a talk with a half-blood student earlier in the year who had been struggling with figuring out how to tell his friends that he was bisexual. Much like Remus, he had received outright homophobic messages from the muggle world, which had barely been mollified by wizarding culture’s indifferent approach to sexuality. Hearing about Remus’s own experiences and perspective had been a relief to the boy. 

“Exactly. I was planning to have it be monthly, about a week after the full moon so that they can talk about their experiences with each moon, but far off enough that the fatigue of the full will have faded…” 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Remus says thoughtfully. He wonders what it might have been like to have another young werewolf to commiserate with when he’d been growing up. It’s difficult to imagine. But it doesn’t have to be something that’s left only to imagination for these young lycanthropes, for his son. 

“You don’t have to say yes right away! I’ll send you an owl with all the details and you can decide whether you’d like to come.”

“Yes, I think that would work for me…” Remus says softly, feeling steely determination rising, solidifying into a decision. “I’d very much like to come. Thank you, Chiara.” 

He meets Tonks and Teddy on the ground floor, just outside the welcome area. Tonks is sitting on a bench and flipping through a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ , Teddy sipping apple juice as he stares up at the portraits of healers lining the entryway. 

“Chiara told me about her plans for the group,” Remus murmurs. “I think it’s an excellent idea.”

“Yeah, it is,” Tonks says without asking any questions, which confirms Remus’s suspicions. She looks rather like a younger version of Andromeda today, although he sincerely doubts that Andromeda has ever considered charming her hair that shade of cherry red. 

“More drinks with Chiara?” he asks.

“We’re, well, we’re just seeing how things develop naturally,” Tonks says, but she’s smiling slightly. Then she snorts. “Merlin, I’m talking to my ex-husband about the girl I fancy.” 

“I seem to recall a few dates where we discussed how much we fancied various strangers together,” Remus murmurs. “It might seem a bit strange to others, but if we’re both alright with it…” 

“Our lives never really fit into the definition of ordinary, did they? Morgana knows what that word even means, other than trying to suck all the fun out of life,” Tonks shrugs, glancing over at Teddy. “As long as we’re all happy.” 

Their voices are too quiet for Teddy to hear from where he’s staring up at a portrait of Dilys Derwent, mesmerized by the painted white dove flitting round her painting. They have not yet discussed how they’ll treat either of them seeing someone else around Teddy. In general, Remus suspects that Teddy will take it in stride as long as the new person brings an offering of chocolate or fun games to play, but Chiara and her unfamiliar wolf smell is an exception. He thinks the issue will lessen with familiarity, and he knows that Dora always has Teddy in mind first, that they’ll find some way to deal with it. With considerable effort, he manages to stop himself from ruminating more on the matter and refocuses on the current conversation. 

“Sirius guessed it first. I’ll warn you now, as soon as you bring her round for dinner, he’ll be teasing you nonstop,” Remus continues, remembering dinners with James and Lily a long time ago, and Harry and Ginny now. 

“Of course he will, the git.”

“Yeah,” Remus smiles fondly, thinking of Sirius, who’ll be home when him and Teddy return. 

They’ll all have a nice dinner together, Sirius telling them both about whatever adventures he’s had with his rehabilitated magical creatures today. 

“And you must know I don’t have a problem with you and Sirius,” Tonks continues, looking more serious. “I know he's my second cousin or something, but that would be rather hypocritical of me, wouldn’t it?” 

Remus is utterly lost. Him and Sirius. But that would mean… heat rushes through his body. He realizes that his mouth is hanging open slightly and quickly closes it, putting on a sedate mask that shows no reaction out of the ordinary to Tonks’s words. Him and Sirius. 

“Tell your git I said wotcher,” Tonks says, looking a bit suspicious as she eyes Remus, the way she used to look at him when he swore he didn’t know what had happened to the last of the chocolate. Thankfully, she ultimately decides not to comment further, glancing down at her watch and standing up.

“Time to go back to work?” Remus asks. 

“Yeah,” Tonks says, stepping forward and putting her arms around Remus. He is filled with immense gratitude that they ended their relationship just in time to salvage their friendship. Remus warmly hugs her—always his partner in raising Teddy, but not otherwise, not anymore and for the better, and his _friend_ —back. 

* * *

The next full moon takes place on a Thursday, so they move the monthly family dinner back to Saturday night. 

Although Teddy seems to already be getting used to the regular rhythm of the lunar cycle and is calmed by the presence of both the wolf and dog, he cries the morning after when Remus tries to put him to bed for a nap.

Remus stands in the doorway of Teddy’s bedroom, watching his son restlessly thrash around as he tries to sleep, and feeling awful. 

He hears footsteps behind him. Sirius comes up next to him to press a mug of steaming tea into Remus’s hands. Remus leans his head on Sirius’s shoulder, finding his presence there comforting. Him and Sirius. Part of him is finding that he quite likes that idea.

“You just wish you could take all that pain for yourself,” Sirius says quietly, rubbing Remus’s back with his free hand. “If I could go through everything Harry did so he didn’t have to suffer it at all, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” 

“Yeah,” Remus says softly, thankful that he doesn’t have to explain.

Thankfully, Teddy is feeling better the next day, well enough to demand a trip to Harry and Ginny’s flat since they won’t be at dinner tonight. “I want Harry!” he declares over breakfast. Remus laughs, turning to Sirius.

“Is there a game today?” 

“Nah, I don’t think so… I think Ginny’s just got practice so Harry should be free if he’s not off with Ron and Hermione.” Sirius goes to floo Harry then and finds that Harry is indeed free for the day with no plans loftier than cleaning the flat. So, after breakfast, Remus brings Teddy over to Harry’s. 

“I think Teddy has finally gotten sick of us,” Remus tells Harry, who chuckles. “Just floo us if anything happens. I’ll be home all day working on lesson plans.”

The day is ultimately uneventful, nothing more interesting happening than Remus revising his lesson on the Reductor Curse and answering an owl from Hermione about a discrimination case involving a healer at St. Mungo’s refusing to supply a vampire patient with adequate blood. From what it sounds like, she and Andromeda intend to bring their full legal might down on St. Mungo’s and he is quite looking forward to it. 

When Remus returns to Harry’s flat, he’s greeted by a blue-haired, grinning Harry Potter.

“Hello, Harry. New look?” he asks, taking in the vibrant turquoise shade of Harry’s messy hair. 

“Hey, Remus,” Harry says. “Come to the kitchen. We have something to show you.” 

Remus follows him out of the living room, already hearing Teddy’s giggling. It feels like everything else in the world pales in comparison to that sound, to knowing that his son is happy and safe in this moment. Remus steps past Harry and goes to Teddy, feeling buoyant with joy. 

“Look, Tad!” Teddy says as he stands up on his chair, pointing to his own head of shocking blue hair. “Harry did it for me! My favorite color!” 

“So he did,” Remus laughs, ruffling Teddy’s hair.

“Tonks mentioned that she’d never had to learn most of the disguise charms and that gave me the idea to ask Teddy if he wanted me to try one on him,” Harry explains. 

“And you took part in it yourself.”

“Yeah, Teddy wanted us to match. I’ve just got to work out the countercharm before work on Monday morning…”

“Are you sure that you wouldn’t like it to be a permanent change?” Remus turns back to Harry. He is filled with warm gratitude for both of them. For both his son and this man in front of him, this man who has endured so much pain and come out of it all as a good person with so much love for those around him. “But really, thank you, Harry.” 

“Of course,” Harry says earnestly. “We can’t make it tonight since Ginny’s got a team dinner, but I’m glad I got to see Teddy now."

“You’ll both be missed, Harry,” Remus tells him, giving him a quick hug before leading Teddy back to the floo.

“Looking good, Teddy,” Sirius says as Teddy and Remus enter Andromeda’s living room, a bag of Teddy’s things in tow. Tonks immediately perks up, beaming at her son. She jumps up from the couch and goes over to pick up Teddy, her vivid pink hair turning the same shade of blue as Teddy’s.

“We match, Tata!” Teddy laughs.

“Thank Harry,” Remus tells them. He sits down next to Sirius on the sofa as Tonks tosses Teddy in the air, the boy’s laughter bright. Sirius is a warm line against his side and he can’t help leaning into Sirius slightly, Sirius putting an arm around him. 

“His hair was blue half the time, anyway,” Remus observes and he can feel Sirius’s nod.

“Always good to see him laughing like that,” Sirius murmurs, his long fingers drawing small circles on Remus’s shoulder. Remus imagines reaching up to tangle their fingers together and immediately goes hot, feeling rather like someone has just cast a warming charm straight at his face. He hopes that his pinkening cheeks aren’t too obvious, but thankfully Sirius is absorbed in watching Teddy and Dora’s antics. 

“Look at you two!” Tonks says as she finally settles Teddy down on the floor, her gaze flitting between Sirius and Remus. Thankfully, Andromeda calls for dinner and Teddy near-drags Tonks from the room in his excitement. 

“What’s she mean, Moony?” Sirius asks after Tonks and Teddy head out of the room. He has an eyebrow raised expectantly in the same way that he’d dare the other Marauders to go down an unexplored passage or try out some new hex.

“I’m not sure...” Remus mutters. Perhaps this is the aftermath of some joke between Sirius and Dora and he is completely misreading the situation. A neat, simple explanation that goes nowhere he wants it to. 

“Well, Andy made roast, so let’s get started before they eat it all,” Sirius says, holding out a hand to help Remus up. He accepts Sirius’s outstretched hand and forcibly doesn’t think about how much he doesn’t ever want to let go of Sirius’s hand even as he stands up and lets his hand fall to his side, away from Sirius. 

Although dinner is Andromeda’s promised roast, Tonks provides dessert.

“I was out with Chiara the other day and we found these cakes just off Diagon Alley,” Tonks says cheerfully, serving them each a hearty slice of chocolate cake decorated in iridescent swirls of frosting. “The frosting tastes different with each bite, but the inside’s always chocolate.”

“Out with Chiara?” Andromeda says contemplatively. “You’ve been out together quite a bit lately.” 

Tonks is starting to blush a little. “Quite a bit, yeah. We’re just seeing how things progress naturally, taking it slow, I suppose.”

“That’s good. I remember her from your time at Hogwarts. She’s a very nice girl.” 

“Taking it slow, so don’t go drawing up wedding invitations, Mum!” Tonks retorts and they both laugh.

Seeing the scene, Remus smiles as he digs into his cake. Although the combination of the chili pepper and chocolate leaves something to be desired, he enjoys the mix of mint and chocolate. As he chews, savoring the combination, he thinks. Even though it’s the norm in wizarding culture, he’s heartened by the fact that Andromeda has never batted an eye at the gender of who her child dates (even if she can be rather hard on potential partners otherwise) or the way that Tonks sometimes has stubble and a deep voice. 

When he’d made an attempt at coming out to his parents a long time ago, his mam had blanched, immediately uncomfortable at the thought of her son with another man even as she said that she’d love him no matter what. He’d been more hopeful about his father’s reaction. Lyall hadn’t seemed to care much in the way typical of wizarding culture at first, but then he had made some offhand comment about not even being able to choose between boys and girls and Remus had abruptly ceased all discussion of it with them. He hadn’t exactly had much to say about his love life back then anyway, beyond nights spent with strangers and first dates that never went anywhere. 

Remus glances at Sirius, who’s also listening to Andromeda and Tonks’s conversation with an amused look on his face. “I knew it,” Sirius says as he licks frosting off his fork. Then, with a slight cough, “Think that was earwax.” 

* * *

Remus wakes up early for once, the morning sun casting pale rays of light across the room. He turns over to see Sirius’s face, sleeping and peaceful, and smiles, warm affection unfurling in his chest.

About twenty minutes later, Remus is at the stove preparing some laver cakes the muggle way with his mam’s old recipe, along with the rest of breakfast, a full fry up that’s cooking itself under the direction of Remus’s spell. Sirius comes out of their bedroom, stretching. He’s put on one of Remus’s jumpers, the rust-colored one with a saffron _R_ knit into it, courtesy of Molly Weasley last Christmas.

“Reckon this is the first time you’ve ever been properly up before me, Moony,” Sirius chuckles, walking up to Remus and putting one hand on the counter, the other on Remus’s lower back. The touch of his hand is warm and inviting, and a part of Remus wishes that he would never move away. That piece of Remus that craves Sirius’s touch has been getting much louder lately and he thinks it is on the brink of overtaking all else. 

“There’s a first time for everything,” Remus responds, turning to Sirius. “I wanted to make something nice for you.” 

Sirius nods, eyes fixed on Remus’s face. He is staring at Remus so intently that he thinks Sirius might as well not notice if the stove was on fire, if the rest of the world melted away in that moment. As they stare at each other, Remus can feel the kitchen fading away behind him, everything fading away in comparison to, to _Sirius_. And then Sirius takes a step forward, disrupting the equilibrium of their shared gazes, and brings their mouths together. 

Sirius is quite a fantastic kisser as it turns out, putting his hand in Remus’s hair as the other grips Remus’s hip in a way that has him needing more, pressing forward for more of Sirius’s touch, his lips parting even as his arm is awkwardly stuck out, still holding the spatula over the stove. However, before Remus can rectify his odd position, he smells burning.

“The stove!” he exclaims, pulling away from Sirius and quickly switching it off. The laver cakes seem beyond saving, but thankfully, most everything else is salvageable. He sets down the spatula and turns back to Sirius, who’s now looking a bit abashed. 

“Remus, er,” he starts and Remus smiles comfortingly, putting a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. Forget splitting it into parts and pieces. It’s all of him that wants Sirius. 

“I enjoyed that. Did you?” 

“Yeah,” Sirius says, lips curving up into a smile as he puts his hands on Remus’s waist and steps closer. “Yeah.” 

This time, they both lean into the kiss, and this time, it’s slower than the shock of the first kiss, which was almost rough in its franticness. Remus’s lips part easily, and he savors Sirius’s slight sigh as he melts into Remus’s touch, everything of Sirius that he can feel right now. His lean muscles, the softness of his hair as Remus runs his hands through it, the slight prickle of his stubble, the way Remus has to lean up slightly to meet him. 

When they finally pull apart, Sirius’s eyes are dark, bringing to mind the image of the sky during a storm. Remus finds that he quite enjoys having that effect on Sirius. 

“Do you want to do this? A proper relationship?” Remus says. He thinks they have been on the precipice of this thing finally occurring between them for a very long time. A badly burnt breakfast was just the tipping point. 

“Feels like we’re already most of the way there.” 

“Yeah,” Remus brushes their noses together, which makes both of them smile, and then Sirius pulls him in for more kissing, more urgency and desperation to it. Remus walks him back, putting Sirius against the counter, one of his own legs ending up between Sirius’s. It is mesmerizing how easily Sirius goes, how responsive he is with sound and motion to every one of Remus’s touches, how he grinds against Remus’s thigh, hardness starting to make itself evident. 

“Moony,” he hears Sirius gasp into his ear as he rubs up against Remus. The desperate sound sparks another wave of need that makes Remus’s mouth go dry and his mind hazy with want. He inhales and steps away, mustering up as much self-control as he can, which is really quite a monumental effort. Using the façade of nonchalance he’d honed through years of surreptitious mischief long ago, he manages an innocent smile at Sirius.

“Would you care to take this somewhere else, Mister Padfoot?” 

“Wanker,” Sirius mutters good-naturedly even as he easily follows Remus to the bedroom, getting in a good grope of his arse and a very thorough snog up against the wall on the way. 

“You’re a wanker,” Sirius repeats fondly as he pushes Remus down on the bed, Remus going easily and pulling Sirius down with him, arms around his shoulders. 

“Wanking will likely be involved in this, yes,” Remus says distractedly, completely focused on the shift of Sirius’s strong shoulder blades beneath his hands, how his movement shifts them so that their bodies are pressed against each other at nearly every point, chest against chest and skin on skin. 

“Merlin, that was terrible,” Sirius laughs into his neck. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you like to pause this for a moment so I can come up with a better line?” Sirius’s laughter is infectious and Remus can’t help chuckling himself. 

“No, no,” Sirius says, still laughing. “We’ll work on better ones after this. Put our brilliant minds together.”

Then he grinds down and Remus gasps at the feel of Sirius’s body against his own, the way that their cocks rub against each other through the thin fabric of their briefs, sparking desperate need through Remus’s body. “Put, ah, other brilliant things… together first,” Sirius murmurs before meeting Remus’s mouth again. 

He rubs against him more insistently as Remus moans curses, _more, yes, please, please, please_ , into Sirius’s ear, no shame in showing Sirius exactly what he wants. 

“D’you want… pants down?”

Remus nods in response to Sirius’s whispered question and Sirius slips their pants down together, just enough to free both their cocks, murmuring a spell to ease things and taking them both in his grip. The feel of Sirius against him overtakes all else. Remus comes soon after, panting and, through half-lidded eyes, watches Sirius work at his own cock, tip flashing between his light brown fingers before he comes all over Remus’s rucked up shirt, the chant of Remus’s name on his lips. 

After a quick clean-up spell, Sirius lays his head on Remus’s chest as Remus strokes his hair, feeling quite sleepy and content. The weight of Sirius on his chest is comforting. With his other hand, he traces the tattoos on Sirius’s chest, protection writ in dark runes, then his arm, animal figures artfully rendered in elegant dark strokes. He remembers Sirius and James doing the tattoos for each other in sixth year once they'd perfected the tattooing spell. Peter had been worried about the slight burning sensation that came with the outlining of the tattoos even though Sirius and James assured him it was nothing. While the pain they described seemed miniscule compared to his transformations, Remus had not wanted to have the evidence of their monthly adventures so brazenly marked on his body, however much he appreciated it. Twining up Sirius's arm is the familiar shape of a proud stag, a howling wolf, a friendly dog, and a… hippogriff?

“I redid it. Beaky's a better friend than he was in the end,” Sirius says quietly, seeing that Remus’s hand has stilled on the rearing head of the hippogriff. 

“I like it. I quite think Buckbeak deserves that place of honor,” Remus says, remembering Sirius’s recollection of his escape that night, the revelation that Remus had been believing a lie for the past twelve years. Then Sirius barks a loud laugh, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?” 

“I just…” Sirius looks up at him, expression going contemplative. “Remember when James asked us why we didn’t just shag each other instead of bothering with other people? Took us ages to make him understand that just because two blokes were bent didn’t mean they’d be having it off together.” 

Back then, they’d both looked for the company of people that were similar to them, at least on a surface level. Sirius had preferred the muggle biker types, high-spirited men clad in leather, while Remus had generally gravitated towards bookish, introverted people who didn’t ask too much of him. But things change, and they’ve both changed quite a bit over the past twenty years. Somehow they’ve come to meet together here after years of rebuilding their friendship and the world around them, finding understanding in each other. 

“Merlin. Prongs would be insufferable,” Remus says affectionately, thinking of James’s smiling face, his wild laughter, the way that he was always ready with an encouraging word even when no encouragement was actually needed. 

“Yeah. The git would never let us live it down,” Sirius says, his voice just as fond, and they spend a moment in silence, thinking of their lost best friend. 

Later, Sirius's arms wrapped around Remus and his face half-buried in Remus's shoulder, Remus searches for concrete words to hold on to, syllables that easily encompass the two of them, to remind himself of the _two of them_. 

“What are we?” 

“You’re my nice bloke,” the murmured reply before Remus turns around and kisses him on the mouth, soft and sleepy. "Feels like we’re a bit of everything to each other." 

“We’re each other’s... housemates, fellow canines”—a kiss, here and even when Sirius withdraws, Remus’s hand in his hair remains, thumb stroking over his cheekbone—“friends, confirmed bachelors,”—another kiss—“Marauders, some sort of distant ex-cousins in law,”—”you’re not getting a snog for that one, mate,”—“and hm, boyfriends?” 

“Yeah. Each other’s,” and then Sirius pulls him into more kissing, hands sneaking under his shirt, slow and easy, pulling him closer. 

* * *

Sirius comes with him to pick up Teddy from Tonks and Andromeda’s place.

“Come up to Teddy’s bedroom first, I want to show you lot something,” Tonks says conspiratorially, leading them upstairs. 

_Something_ is leaning against one yellow-painted wall of Teddy’s bedroom, a large sky blue canvas with puffy white clouds painted on it and several bright spots of color spreading out from the center. As Remus gets closer, he can see faces and names. 

Teddy’s blue-haired face is in the center above “Edward Lyall Tonks-Lupin” in jauntily curling script, golden lines leading to Remus and Dora’s own faces and names. Above Remus’s portrait are his parents, his mother’s kind smile and his father’s steady gaze evident in the brushstrokes. From Dora’s portrait, lines leading to portraits of Andromeda and Ted—Remus feels his breath catch in his throat, the loss still raw. Although it’s not magical, the rendering of Ted fully captures his fair hair, friendly brown eyes, and broad smile. He can almost hear the man’s voice in his ear, constantly reassuring him with a kind word as the war pummeled them. Above Ted’s portrait are the names and faces of two people who Remus has only seen in still photographs. Dora’s muggle grandparents. 

Connected by a line from Andromeda, there’s Sirius’s laughing face, Padfoot silhouetted behind him in messily elegant brushstrokes. Another line marks Alphard Black, a man that looks like he could be Andromeda’s twin brother. More lines radiate out from Sirius, marking Harry and his green eyes below James and Lily, lovingly rendered outlines of the stag and doe. And finally, the last line, from Sirius to Regulus, the young man that Remus had thought he knew the full measure of so long ago. 

Remus can see the emotion in Sirius’s wide eyes, feel it in the way that he takes Remus’s hand and pulls him closer. He’s reminded of the first time that Harry had sat down with Sirius for a proper conversation, a week after defeating Voldemort, when they were all just beginning to see their way out of the choking haze of the war. 

They’d both insisted that Remus be there to help explain the events of the years that Sirius had been lost behind the veil. He had been thankful that he could help Harry when he faltered in his explanations and that Sirius had him to turn to, to look at something that might be understanding when Harry had explained the locket, the sacrifice, what Regulus had done.

“It’s brilliant, Dora,” Sirius says, his voice tight with emotion. Remus shifts, putting his arm around him as he takes Sirius’s hand with his free one, wanting very much to hold him tight and never let him go.

“It is, isn’t it?” Tonks says. “I commissioned Harry’s friend Luna. I thought it was about time we made our own family tapestry for Teddy. And there’s plenty of room for more, see all the blank space?” 

“Always said I liked that girl,” Sirius says approvingly. Although he suspects that the majority of Sirius’s fondness for Luna Lovegood originates from her habit of calling him Mr. Stubby Boardman, Remus has to agree. 

“So, you two,” Tonks says briskly. 

“I know it’s a bit of an odd situation, but yes. We’re together,” Remus confirms. Dora had looked at him like he had never been scarred, while Sirius looks at him as if he sees every scar, even the ones that aren't on the surface, and loves him all the more for it. It's far too easy to compare them and try to diminish one, but that would only be a disservice to all of them. No, all he can do is appreciate what he has. And he will.

“Might as well embrace the oddness and get on with it,” Tonks shrugs, smiling. 

“To say the least,” Remus says as Sirius chuckles, the sound low and deep and pleasant in his ear. However, when Tonks leaves the room, Sirius stops Remus with a hand on his arm. He turns back to the canvas, his gaze fixed on Regulus’s portrait before crossing to James and Lily’s portraits. 

“I heard them. It was all I could hear,” Sirius says softly, touching the paint reverently. 

“Behind the veil?” Remus asks. This is the first time he’s ever heard Sirius speak about that time in words not dripping with sarcasm. 

“James and Lily. Constantly whispering to me, telling me to come join them, to finally rest… I couldn’t change into the dog there. It was just their voices and the darkness, nothing else. Then I started hearing Regulus too, telling me that he missed his big brother, that he was alone and that it was cold and dark. That he was so, so scared,” Sirius wipes his eyes, taking a breath before he continues. “I nearly went to them. Almost saw James again. But I, I couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. About all the people I’d left behind here with no idea what was going to happen to them, nothing I could do. You and Tonks and Andy,” and then Sirius smiles broadly even though his eyes are wet with tears. “And Teddy, even though I didn’t know that one at the time.” 

“Oh, Sirius. I’m so happy that you’re here,” is all Remus can say, drawing Sirius into his arms, holding him close. Sirius’s embrace is so tight as to be verging on painful, but he welcomes it, welcomes the gripping reminder that Sirius is _here_ with him.

“I don’t regret coming back,” Sirius says after a minute, his breath warm against Remus’s ear.

“Me too,” Remus says into Sirius’s hair almost nonsensically, overwhelmed with a wave of gratitude, of love for Sirius. They stay there together for several moments. 

Andromeda is there when they finally return downstairs. She convinces Sirius and Remus to stay for dinner with the promise of chocolate cake. “No earwax frosting this time, I promise,” she tells Sirius. 

Although Andromeda had spent the entire day at the Ministry, working on a case about a convoluted conflict over a spell patent, she’d brought takeaway from a curry house near Diagon Alley. 

“I really prefer home cooking, but I was short on time today and this restaurant is conveniently located,” Andromeda says by way of explanation. 

“Stop making excuses, we all know this is your favorite, Mum,” Tonks cheerily says, scooping more dhal into Teddy’s bowl.

They’re all in a good mood and when Sirius suggests that they have wine, the four adults easily agree. Not wanting Andromeda to bother after a long day scrabbling over the minutiae of magical patents, Remus volunteers to retrieve a bottle of wine from the kitchen. 

He opens the kitchen cabinet, searching for a suitable bottle of wine, but his search is quickly derailed by the feeling of strong hands on his hips.

“Need some help?” Sirius whispers as his grip tightens, a thumb slipping under Remus’s shirt to stroke over bare skin and making Remus shiver pleasantly. 

“Perhaps,” Remus says, turning around to look him in the face. Sirius is grinning mischievously as he leans in to kiss Remus on the mouth. He quite appreciates Sirius’s help even if it’s not very productive, Remus thinks as Sirius pushes him against the counter, kissing him deeply.

“Excuse me,” a familiar voice cuts in, making them both jump. Andromeda Tonks is standing a few feet away from them, a slight smirk on her face.

“Er,” Remus starts frantically. What does one say to their former mother-in-law who’s just caught them snogging her cousin?

“You two were standing in front of the cupboard,” she says, reaching past Remus to get a bottle of wine. “You had better hurry back, otherwise Teddy and Dora will have finished all the cake.”

“You, ah,” Remus starts again. “Aren’t you surprised about… us?” 

“Why would I be?” Andromeda asks, looking between them, seeming genuinely bemused.

“It’s only been a week, don’t tell me you somehow managed to find out about it already,” Sirius mutters.

“Only a week?” Andromeda repeats and now her eyebrows are raising in surprise. “Er, I suppose that I assumed when you two moved in together… and Dora told me that you fancy men as well, Remus, so it made sense…”

“Oh,” Remus says. Sirius laughs to himself, almost in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know much about… Should Dora not have told me that?” Andromeda asks, now looking uncharacteristically flustered.

“No, no, I don’t have an issue with you knowing that I’m bisexual…” Remus says quickly. “Er, I just get the impression that everyone knew before we did.” 

Andromeda nods, looking a little reassured. “Regardless, it seems that we’re all on the same page now. I suppose that it all turned out for the best.” 

“It did, yeah,” Sirius grins, taking Remus’s hand in his. “Let’s see if there’s any cake left.” 

* * *

_September 1, 2009_

“Are you ready to go, Teddy?” Remus smiles down at his son as the train pulls into the station. 

“Where d’you reckon I’ll be sorted?” Teddy asks, his eyes darting excitedly around the platform, eagerly taking in the throngs of families milling around the platform and saying their own goodbyes. The scars on his cheek that he received long ago are faded silvery lines, the rest of his skin unmarred but for scattered freckles. 

“You’d be brilliant in Hufflepuff, Teddy,” Tonks says, giving him a tight hug.

“Nah, this is a Gryffindor if I’ve ever seen one,” Sirius says, ruffling Teddy’s bright blue hair. Harry had refreshed the charm this morning when he, along with Ginny and little James, had come to Andromeda's for breakfast. Remus suspects that he’d also tucked a certain map into Teddy’s trunk. 

“There are two other houses, you know,” Remus chuckles. “No matter which one you get sorted into, I can’t wait to see what you do at Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, I reckon it’ll be Puff,” Teddy grins. He endures a few more hugs from Sirius, Tonks, and Remus, and then runs off to the train with a shouted “Bye!” 

“Do you think he’ll continue in our footsteps? He’s been taught well,” Sirius asks, taking Remus’s hand. Even after all these years, Sirius’s hand in his is a revelation every time, making heat spark in his chest. 

“Remus will be there to report back, but we’ll see how much help he is,” Tonks says, looking sideways at him. 

“We’ll just have to see.” 

“Hey, that’s not a no,” Sirius says. Remus chuckles, pulling the ridiculous, wonderful man he loves into a kiss. In the parking lot, they had held hands without a second thought and gotten nothing but easy acceptance. They have come such a long way together. He moves back to look Sirius in the eyes, which are creased with smile lines.

“We’ll all be here to see whatever he does.” 

**Author's Note:**

> The statue Sirius and Remus admire is _The Soldier from Marathon Announcing Victory_.
> 
> I am not fluent in Welsh or French (or Gujarati for that matter, beyond a few family and food terms), so please let me know if any of it is inaccurate. The translations of the phrases Remus and Teddy use:  
>  _cwtch_ = hug/cuddle, although this seems to be a rather surface-level translation  
>  _hwyl fawr_ = a big goodbye  
>  _bore da_ = good morning


End file.
